


The Only Exception

by caelestisxyz



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Family Dynamics, Film Industry drama, Fluff, Happy Ending, Iwaizumi has a daughter, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Oikawa doesn't like kids, Omega Verse, Pining, Single Parents, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, side pairings mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 10:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17282747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caelestisxyz/pseuds/caelestisxyz
Summary: As a single parent harboring a dark secret, Iwaizumi Hajime has a lot on his plate. He doesn't have room in his life nor his heart for a certain famous athlete. No matter how attractive they are. No matter how much his daughter seems fond of them. Unfortunately for him, Oikawa Tooru has a knack for chipping away at all manner of defenses until they break.





	1. Baby Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I know how the national team really works but for the sake of fanfiction things are altered!

In the first time, in the history of forever, Oikawa Tooru is the first to arrive at the recreational center that Saturday morning.

His promptness was by no means intentional on his behalf, make no mistake. It’s just that the meeting with his agent ended earlier than expected, and the barista at his favorite coffee shop was apparently aiming for an ‘employee of the month’ plaque because they delivered Oikawa’s chai latte in record time.

So, that’s why Oikawa is here, sitting in his parked car, looking for tabloid articles about himself despite how unhealthy it is. He knows he should ignore them. Up until now, he’s done a good job of doing just that. But now he has free time, and it’s been a while since he’s had any free time what with how busy the pre-season has been.

Oikawa’s thumb hovers over the hyperlink. The article’s preview is foreboding, a prelude to a major mood drop. Proceeding would be unwise. Too bad Oikawa’s already tapping the link and skimming the article before the page can fully load properly. One day, his curiosity is going to bite him in the ass, and even though under different circumstances, he’d be into that sort of thing, he knows it’ll be far from enjoyable.

“...overrated, over glorified, and mediocre,” he reads the sentence under his breath, irritation slowly building like a crescendo. “Needs to be put in his place?!” He’s practically screaming now.

Oikawa doesn’t read another word. He scrolls to the bottom of the page, taps on the comment section and starts typing a very angry reply. How dare some sexist, second-rate journalist try to discredit all his hard work and contributions to the national team…

There’s a sharp and sudden knock on the window. Startled, Oikawa jumps and lets out one of the ugliest screams imaginable, his phone slipping through his fingers, falling to the floor of the car. Standing outside of the car, with a shit-eating grin on his face is Yahaba Shigeru, Oikawa’s best friend. Oikawa’s initial reaction is, relief; he was afraid it was one of his intense fans. When the relief passes, his annoyance is back, this time not as heated because he can never be angry at Yahaba. Not really, anyway.

Yahaba’s laughing when Oikawa opens the car door. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “I’m surprised to see you here on time.”

“Actually, I was early.” He steps out the car and picks his phone up, pleased to see that his unfinished comment is still there. “And this will be the last time. Waiting around is frustrating,”

Yahaba rolls his eyes. “Ken and everyone else already went inside, but when I saw you sitting out here, on time, I wanted to make sure the world wasn’t ending.”

“Funny.” Grabbing his duffle bag from the back seat, he slams the car door, locking it with his key fob. “I’ll catch up with you. I need to finish writing a reply to this stupid article.”

“What article?”

“Don’t judge me, but I Googled myself and—”

“Oh, Oikawa, not again.” Yahaba put his hand on his hip, a stern expression on his face that isn’t as effective because he still looks like a cherubic, the powder blue tracksuit doesn’t help either. “Didn’t we both agree that nothing good ever comes out of that?”

“There was that one time I found a really nice page dedicated to me. Remember that?”

“The creator of that page broke into your home, stole your clothes and sold them on eBay,” he says flatly.

“At least I live in a better neighborhood now?”

Yahaba isn’t having it. He holds out his hand. “Give it here,” he demands, gesturing to the phone.

Even though Yahaba really does look angelic, and harmless, he’s neither of those things. Whenever Oikawa needs a break from commercials and photo shoots, he calls Yahaba and Yahaba calls Oikawa’s agent. Oikawa’s agent is terrified of Yahaba. And for good reason, too. He can be intimidating, especially when it comes to the people he cares about.

Oikawa hands over his phone. “He called me mediocre and overrated. He said I needed to learn my place. Can I at least trace the IP address and have his home blown up?”

“You’re not mediocre or overrated. You’re the setter for the national team and a damn good one. Who cares what.” He glances down at the article, reading the author’s name. “An asshole like Isoda Kenji has to say?”

“I know all that. It just pisses me off." 

After closing the page and deleting it from the browser history, Yahaba returns Oikawa’s phone. “It pisses me off too, but we can’t blow up everyone’s house. Unfortunately.” He puts his arm on his friend’s shoulder, guiding him to the building. “Let’s go take our anger out on our old rivals!”

Oikawa does like the sound of that.

“Did a future attorney just promote arson?” Oikawa teases as they walk inside the recreational center, the squeaking of sneakers on the polished court greeting him.

“Ken’s walking the righteous path. I’m taking the grey route. I can promote arson if I want.”

Yahaba’s in law school and his boyfriend just graduated from the police academy a month ago. Okawa calls them the crime stoppers, though, it’s obvious Yahaba didn’t choose his career path for the same reasons as his boyfriend.

They stop at one of the many benches lining the court and set their bags down. From the looks of it, their other friends have started warming up. After high school came to an end, their former volleyball club started meeting up at the local recreational center whenever they could for a friendly game. It’s how they’ve been keeping in touch over the years. The rival teams they normally play consists of a mixture of teams they played in high school.

“Hanamaki couldn’t make it,” Yahaba says, removing his jacket and folding it neatly.

“Will we have enough people to play?”

“Yeah, Ken asked his friend to fill in.”

That’s disappointing. Not only was Oikawa looking forward to seeing all his friends again, but he knows Hanamaki is a good, reliable player. He’s familiar with Hanamaki’s strengths and weakness, the same with everyone he normally plays with. A new person could throw their game off. But it should be fine. Oikawa adjusts fairly quickly.

“Mad Dog-chan is already making friends at the department? How cute,” Oikawa says.

“No, Iwaizumi’s an old friend. They’ve been friends long before I even met Ken.”

This is the first time Oikawa has heard anything about Kyoutani possibly having a best friend. Intrigued, he faces the court, trying to scan the area for an unfamiliar face. But it’s too crowded. There are at least three other games going on right now.

Oikawa figures he’ll just have to wait until after his warm up. They run a couple of laps around the gym. Yahaba fills Oikawa in on the comings and goings of his daily life, and vice versa. It’s been three weeks since their last meet up. Yahaba’s trying to survive law school and Oikawa’s preparing for his second season with the national team. In the midst of all that, they’re both jacked up on heat suppressants to avoid what they deem as an inconvenience.

“Ken wants me to stop taking them,” Yahaba says. They’re on the last stretch of their lap. “Because they can have long-term effects. I was thinking of stopping before the end of the month.”

“Do you want to stop taking them?”

“Not really, but one day I want kids. Taking suppressants for too long can cause infertility, you know.”

Oikawa does know that which is why he isn’t going to stop taking them. But he doesn’t need to say this. His best friend already knows how Oikawa feels about children.

Warm-up done, they make their way to the side of the court that they’ll be playing on. Their teammates are engaged in a light chat with their opponents. Everyone, even Kyoutani, is engaged in the conversation. Well, not everyone. There’s a new guy, an alpha, who’s standing off to the side, casually stretching his arms. His very large arms.

“Is that him?” Oikawa whispers to Yahaba.

Yahaba follows Oikawa’s eyes. “Yeah, that’s him.”

“Took you two long enough,” Matsukawa says when he spots the two omegas. “Oikawa, I expected this from, but not you Yahaba.”

Just then, the new guy glances in Oikawa’s direction, their eyes meeting for a split second. Iwaizumi breaks eye contact first, a look of indifference on his face. Well, that’s new. Usually, when anyone locks eyes with _the_ Oikawa Tooru, they’re overcome with intense desire or at least a little bit of interest.

Kyoutani’s friend must be partially blind. That’s the only explanation Oikawa can think of.

“How’s the manga coming along?” Oikawa asks Matsukawa, taking his eyes off Iwaizumi. “Last we spoke you were suffering from a block.”

“Block’s over,” Matsukawa announces proudly. “I know exactly how I’m going to end it. Everyone’s going to die. Easy.”

Oikawa laughs. “I am so happy I’m not one of your readers.”

“Okay, meet and greet is over,” Kyoutani says gruffly. “Let’s start the game already!”

Being accustomed to Kyoutani’s lack of patience, Oikawa is unbothered. But he does have one objection. “I can't play until I know what position your friend will be playing.” He’s sure to look at Iwaizumi when he adds, “Does he even know how to play?”

Iwaizumi smirks at the question, exuding confidence.

 _Cocky._ Oikawa thinks.  
  
All of a sudden, Oikawa wants to crush Iwaizumi, maybe even humiliate him a little. Too bad they’re playing on the same team. Then again, there are other ways to mess with the alpha.

“Wing spiker,” Iwaizumi says. “But I can play any position. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Ah, yes, Oikawa is going to fucking destroy this guy.

A wide smile overtakes Oikawa’s face. The kind of smile that unsettles Kyoutani, and makes his other friends wary. But Iwaizumi doesn’t know Oikawa so he doesn’t know what to make of the smile. He’ll learn soon enough.

“Wing spiker works just fine,” Oikawa says, taking the offered ball from Yahaba, twirling it in his hand. “Everyone to your positions.”

The game starts, and the atmosphere shifts. They call it a “friendly game of volleyball” but it’s more than that. They're all too competitive for that. Oikawa’s fully in the zone, his plan of teaching the new guy a lesson is still very much on the agenda, but he’s pushed it aside for now. His goal is to make sure his team racks up enough points first.

And they do, but it isn’t easy. Their rivals consist of players from Karasuno, Shiratorizawa, and Johzenji, each of the players skilled in their own right. Oikawa isn’t arrogant enough to think that his status as a professional player is room for him to slack. And honestly, he thinks it’s disrespectful and insulting to go easy on any of them. He plays like he would in an official match.

So far, Iwaizumi manages to keep up, and if Oikawa’s being honest, the guy isn’t half bad. He’s fast, his spikes powerful. Not the same kind of monstrous, untamed power that Kyoutani has. No, Iwaizumi’s power is controlled, reigned in. Every time his palm connects with the ball, a melodious sound fills Oikawa’s ears. It's the sound of synchronization. As setter and wing spiker, they're compatible. Oikawa wants to contribute it to the tosses he’s been giving Iwaizumi. But the results are the same when the ball comes from the other side of the net.

Once their team is far in the lead, Oikawa puts his plan into motion. When it’s time for him to set the ball, he purposefully adjusts it, very slightly, to the point that the untrained eye wouldn’t notice. The ball is moving too fast and too high. Iwaizumi isn’t going to connect and in his attempt to do so, he’ll end up crashing into the net.

It’s the perfect humbling experience in Oikawa’s opinion.

Except, Iwaizumi makes the connect. He does so by extending his arm, using half of his hand to send the ball flying. It’s not as spot on as his past spikes, but it’s still good.

Iwaizumi looks at Oikawa, and Oikawa just knows he’s been found out. He should feel ashamed, at least apologetic. He doesn’t. If anything, he’s excited and a little something else. The knowing glance between them ends far too soon. There’s still a game to be played, after all.

Oikawa refrains from pulling any more cheap tricks. After seeing how Iwaizumi plays, he understands why the man is confident. It’s well deserved.

They win the match.

Unsure of the next time they’ll be able to meet up, Yahaba tells everyone to check the group chat for updates. As wiped out as he is, Oikawa could still go for another game. He really wants to play with Iwaizumi again, though, he won’t outright say it.

His plan is to wait until they’re all filing out of the building to strike up a conversation with the alpha. He wants to know if Iwaizumi played in high school or university or both. He wants to know where Iwaizumi studied, where here’s from, and if he believes in life on other planets; all of which are very important. Oikawa will maybe even sneak in a question about Iwaizumi’s current relationship status. Not that’s he’s interested in the guy or anything. He’s just curious.

“He already left,” Yahaba says, they’re walking out the locker room and Oikawa isn’t being very discreet. “But he did thank everyone for allowing him to play before he bailed. That was nice of him.”

“He didn’t thank me,” Oikawa says, surprised by how upset that makes him. “You think he’s nice? I think he’s rude.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to flirt with him, but you can't.”

Is that what Oikawa wants, to flirt with Iwaizumi? It doesn’t sound too far off the mark. Currently, Oikawa doesn’t know what to make of Iwaizumi or his large arms and tan skin. He’s just curious about the guy.

“How about we talk about why you’ve never told me about him, Yahaba. If he’s Kyoutani’s best friend that means you’ve met him before today.”

Yahaba sighs. “I officially met Iwaizumi a year ago.” He continues before Oikawa can call him a bad friend. “I didn’t tell you because I know he’s your type.”

“My type?” Oikawa frowns, feeling oddly offended. “He’s not my type. I...I don’t even have a type!”

“You’re only saying that because you only have this one interaction to go off of. But I’ve hung out with him before with Ken. Iwaizumi's definitely your type.”

“Let’s say,” Oikawa says, “for argument’s sake, that Iwaizumi is my type. Isn’t that more reason for you to tell me about him? You’re supposed to be my wingman.”

Yahaba doesn’t respond until they’re standing by Oikawa’s car, Kyoutani is waiting for him a few cars over. “I didn’t think it would matter if I told you or not. I was shocked when he agreed to fill in for Hanamaki because…” He stops himself. 

“Because of what?” If anything Oikawa is more curious than before. “Don’t tell me he has some tragic backstory,” he jokes.

“I’m not sure of the details, Ken won’t tell me. But, Iwaizumi has a kid. He’s a single father.”

“Oh,” is all he can say.

Now it makes sense why Yahaba failed to tell Oikawa about Iwaizumi. One of Oikawa’s things when it comes to dating is that he doesn’t date anyone who has kids. It’s just one of his preferences that he sticks to. 

“Yeah,” Yahaba says. “But there’s one thing I do know about Iwaizumi.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s a good father.”

* * *

With a loud clang, a mountain of pots and pans spill out the lower cabinet. Under his breath, Iwaizumi curses, careful not to let the impressionable five-year-old hear.

“Uh oh,” Erina says, her big, green eyes comically wide, “Papa made a mess.”

Picking up the skillet he was looking for, Hajime looks at his daughter and smiles. “I did.” He puts the other pots away, unceremoniously shoving them back inside the cabinet. “I made a big ole’ mess.”

Erina giggles. “S’okay, you only made a mistake.” Her legs are swinging back and forth as she sits at the table, her delicate chin resting on her tiny hands as she watches her father make dinner. Something she seems to find more entertaining than the coloring book in front of her.

By some miracle, Hajime was blessed with a relatively chill daughter. He likes to think she inherited that trait from him. There are times when Erina is an unstoppable, ball of energy who’ll cry big fat tears if her Papa won’t run around the apartment with her or let her paint his nails; just his toenails. Other times, Erina is incredibly stubborn.

She gets into these moods where she wants to eat a certain food, and only that food, for a whole week and will throw a tantrum if she doesn’t get it. Sometimes, she’ll wear the same outfit for days and refuse to allow Hajime to wash it.  
  
When it comes to the last thing, he has to put his foot down because one time he let her wear a green, lizard jumpsuit for three days straight and her daycare has never stopped judging him for it.

“Papa, ‘member,” Erina says loudly, interrupting her father’s thoughts, “no onions!”

“I know, baby girl,” he says, smiling fondly to himself. 

“I hate onions.” She pulls a face that Hajime knows she didn’t inherit from him. It’s all scrunched up and her tongue's sticking out. "Icky!" 

Hajime feels like teasing her. “Onions are good. Mhmm, tasty.”

“Ew! Papa’s gross!”

He laughs. 

When the food is done, he fixes their plates and sits them on the table. He moves the coloring book out the way because if left up to Erina, she’ll make a mess somehow. Erina is clumsy. Extremely clumsy. Hajime knows before she finishes her plate of stir fry she’s going to either, knock the plate on the floor, spilling rice and vegetables everywhere, or all that food will end up on her clothes. He doesn’t even try to prevent it anymore.

A majority of dinner is silent.

Erina eats her food, picking around the vegetables she isn’t in the mood for, gobbling down the broccoli because she surprisingly loves that. She isn’t much of a talker just like him. Unless there are other people around, especially new people. She’s more talkative then. Iwaizumi is beginning to worry that she’s only so quiet because of him, that maybe she’s reading his mood and is adapting to it. 

Hajime’s never been much of a talker, preferring silence over chatter. There’s also the fact that Hajime hasn’t gone a day since Erina’s birth without feeling guilty, and hatred toward himself. He can honestly say that the only thing that makes him happy is knowing his daughter is happy. Outside of her, he's nothing. When Erina talks, Hajime listens. When she asks him questions, he answers. He’s patient with her, never raising his voice or outwardly expressing any kind of negativity. Even still, Hajime can’t shake the feeling that he’s doing things wrong.

He often wonders if it would’ve been best to allow his parents to continue raising Erina. They kept her until she was two-years-old up until Hajime was in a position to care for her on his own. His mother suggested Erina stay longer, but he couldn’t let his parents take on more of his responsibilities. And he wants to raise his daughter on his own. He wants to be a positive impact on her life.

“Can I have juice?” Erina asks.

He glances at the clock on the stove. “It’s too late at night for juice. You can have water.” If he gives her juice now, she’ll be up for hours.

Erina scrunches her nose, but she doesn’t protest. Iwaizumi pours them a glance of water. If she can’t have juice, it’s only fair that he can’t either. When he sets the cup of water down, he’s surprised to see most of Erina’s food is gone and no mess has been made.

Perhaps he should cut her some slack. She’s starting kindergarten Monday. This must be a sign that she’s really maturing.

Hajime feels a little proud. All that goes out the window when Erina, using both hands, brings the cup of water up to her face and tilts her head all the way back and drinks, completely missing her mouth. Water goes up her nose and Iwaizumi thinks the worst. He kneels beside her chair and reaches for her, not knowing what to do, but knows he needs to do something.

Suddenly, the cup falls to the floor and Erina faces forward. She laughs, water bubbles forming in her nose. When the bubbles burst she starts giggling, water spilling from her mouth, wetting her shirt. Then the coughing fit starts. Hajime pats her back, mindful of his strength.

“Erina-chan,” he says when the coughing has passed and Erina’s face and neck are red, “I think we need to put you back on a sippy cup." 

Erina shakes her head, her bottom lip poking out. “No! I’m a big girl. I wanna’ use a big girl cup, Papa!”

“Big girls don’t drink water like that,” he chuckles. Then he turns serious. “I won’t pack your sippy cup in your school bag if you promise me to drink from the cup how I showed you. But if you don’t think you can do that, you’ll have to take it with you to kindergarten.”

“I promise!” Erina sticks her pinky in Iwaizumi’s face.

He locks their pinkies together. “Okay, I’m counting on you to keep your promise.”

“A promise is most important. I won’t break it.” 

With their pinkies still locked, Hajime lifts his thumb, Erina mirroring his action. They press their thumbs together, sealing the promise with a kiss. Then Hajime gives Erina his cheek and she kisses it. He isn’t sure if it’s childhood innocence or just who Erina is, but when they make promises like this, she works so hard to never break them. 

“Are you finished eating?” Iwaizumi asks.

Erina nods.

“Okay, bath time.”

Erina frowns, shaking her head. “I don’t need a bath I took one already.” Her “already” always sounds like “alwedy” and it’s the cutest thing.

Hajime picks Erina up, tickling her sides, making her squeal like a piglet. “The last time you took a bath was last night,” he says over her giggles. “It’s time for another bath.”

“I-I’m still clean!” Another tickle assault. She laughs so hard her eyes water.

Hajime carries her down the hall to the bathroom. He’ll have to clean up the kitchen later when she's sleeping. She always requires his full attention. While the tub fills with water, Hajime sits on the ledge, Erina sitting on the toilet seat grasping the pink bottle of bath bubbles, her way of making sure her Papa doesn’t forget to add them.

“Bubble time,” he announces.

Erina perks up. She hands him the bottle and watches him pour a few drops into the water. She loves to see the bubbles form. Iwaizumi uses the brief distraction as an opportunity to gather everything he’ll need; mainly Erina’s favorite bath toy so she’ll sit long enough for him to wash and detangle her hair.

“Rahhh,” Erina shouts, waving the Godzilla toy around, pretending that he’s terrorizing a city of bubbles. She continues playing as her father washes her hair. “Rahh, ‘zilla smash!”

“We have to go to the mall tomorrow,” Hajime tells her, working the suds into her long, dark hair, careful not get any in her eyes. Even if the shampoo is no tear, he won’t risk it. “You need new shoes for kindergarten.”

“Since...since I’m starting kin’garten and since I’m a big girl now can I get a new toy?”

Hajime doesn’t agree outright. He has to make it seem like he’s thinking it over, and not giving in easily. But he’s pretty sure his daughter has him figured out by now. He’s a big softy when it comes to her.

“Yes, you can get a new toy. We’ll look for one tomorrow, okay?”

Erina throws her arms up, still holding on to Godzilla. “Yay! New toy!” She lowers her arm, bringing the toy close to her face. “Did you hear that, ‘zilla?" she whispers. "Papa’s gonna’ get me a new toy!”

The Godzilla toy was Hajime's when he was a child. During the time Erina lived with his parents, his father gave the toy to her, and she hasn't stopped playing with it since. 

After her bath, Hajime helps her dry off, and then he brushes her hair. She claims she can put her own pajamas on so he lets her. He doesn’t say anything when she puts the shorts on backward because she looks so proud of herself and he doesn’t have the heart to tell her. Tucking her into bed, he listens to her talk about something that happened at daycare days ago.

This is one of Erina’s tactics for putting off her sleep. She’s already told him about building a castle out of blocks, five times. Still, he listens like he’s never heard the story before and he’s sure to tell her how cool it is that she built a castle on her own.

Once her words become incoherent, her eyes sinking low, Hajime nuzzles her cheek, a deep purr in his chest, until she falls asleep. When he sits up, and he can see the small pout still on her face, and he smiles when he sees it.

Erina thinks she’s too old to be scented by her Papa. Unfortunately for her, Hajime isn’t going to stop anytime soon.

* * *

Looking back, maybe it wasn’t wise for Oikawa to take a trip to the mall after leaving morning practice. In his defense, he thought the baseball cap and black mouth mask would serve as a suitable disguise. Also, his initial plan was to pick up a sports coat. Get in and get out. It’s not his fault he was tempted by the gaming store. If only he'd just ordered the coat online, he wouldn’t be in the predicament he’s in now.

All it took was one person recognizing him. And, they couldn’t discreetly ask for a selfie or an autograph. Oh no, they just had to scream bloody murder and announce to everyone in the vicinity that Oikawa Tooru was there.

Now Oikawa’s running through the mall, a hoard of fans chasing after him. This isn’t the reaction a typical athlete gets. Not for volleyball. The thing is, Oikawa’s a special case. He doesn’t just play volleyball. He’s featured in commercials, magazines, billboards, hell even variety shows. Being one of the few omegas in the professional sports world is one reason for his popularity.

The other reason is, he’s damn good looking. There’s also that one underwear campaign he did. Because of all that, Oikawa practically has Idol status.

He takes a sharp turn, running into the first door he sees. Turns out, it’s the restroom. He isn’t sure if anyone saw him run inside, but to be safe, he runs to hide in one of the stalls. The first one he runs to is locked. So is the second one.

Grabbing the handle of the third stall, Oikawa is relieved when it opens. Keeping his eyes on the bathroom's entrance, he backs into the stall, closes and locks it. He stares through the small crack waiting to see if anyone followed him in. 

“Um, ‘cuse me, mister, but you can’t be in here,” a small voice quietly says from behind him.

Turning around, Oikawa sees a little girl sitting on the toilet and all the blood leaves his face. Before he can profusely apologize and leave, the child starts screaming for her papa. Oikawa flails and fumbles with the lock. He needs to get the hell out of here. In his panic, he doesn’t notice someone walk up to the stall. So he’s caught completely off guard when the door is literally torn off the hinge.

The back of Oikawa’s head hits the wall before he has time to register a thing. He’s thrown back so hard his hat falls off. When he sees who’s holding him by his jacket, with murderous hazel eyes, he can’t believe his shitty luck. 

Iwaizumi seems to recognize who Oikawa is at the same time Oikawa recognizes him. That doesn’t make his grip on the omega slacken one bit. “What are you doing in here?” he asks, voice deeper than the pits of hell. 

This is not a situation where Oikawa should experience any inkling of arousal. But that’s what he feels. A whole lot of arousal and attraction aimed directly at Iwaizumi. He glances at the poor door, that’s barely hanging on. How strong is Iwaizumi? Holy shit!

“It was a mistake,” Oikawa explains quickly. “I’m being chased by fans. I ran into the restroom without paying attention. The stall was unlocked. I didn’t see her until after I locked it!”

Iwaizumi looks over at the tiny human who’s still sitting on the toilet, his expression softening. “Baby girl, how many times do I have to tell you to lock the door behind you?” he asks, voice softer than Oikawa's ever heard it. 

“Sorry, Papa. I forgot.”

Oikawa says, “Maybe you shouldn’t let her go to the bathroom on her own…”

“Maybe you should pay attention to your surroundings better!” He lets Oikawa go, shoves past him and checks on his daughter. While he pulls her pants up, he mutters, “And I was two stalls over. She doesn’t like for me to be in the same stall as her…”

Keeping his back facing father and daughter, Oikawa quietly snorts. Of course, Iwaizumi’s the type of father that lets their child boss them around. The alpha may look like he takes no shit, but he obviously has a weakness.

“You’re still in here,” Iwaizumi says.

Oikawa glances at Iwaizumi. The man is now holding his daughter on his hip, the girl is peering at Oikawa through her dark bangs. “Well, I can’t go out there. They’ll see me.”

“If you didn’t want to be recognized then why’d you come to a public place? A mall at that?” He sounds irritated, but he’s no longer glaring.

“I wore a disguise!”

Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything. He just heavy stares until Oikawa squirms.

“What?!” Oikawa asks, feeling self-conscious. 

“You’re wearing your team jacket, with your name and number on the back…”

Oikawa’s face slacks. “Huh?” He looks down, and then he looks over his shoulder at the big white letters. Sure enough, it’s his team jacket. “I forgot I was wearing this…”

Late nights and early mornings are starting to catch up with him. Oikawa is embarrassed by how airheaded he must seem right now. He's not always a hot ass mess. This is just an off week. Iwaizumi probably thinks he's an idiot. It's hard to tell. But It’s obvious that Oikawa's surprise is genuine. Maybe that’s why Iwaizumi decides to lend a hand.

“Take it off,” Iwaizumi says. “I’ll find you a bag to put it in.”

“I can’t take it off. I’m only wearing a muscle shirt underneath.”

“And?”

Oikawa doesn’t like to be out in public like that. It makes him feel overly exposed for some reason. Even in the underwear campaign, he had a t-shirt on, and with the way, the photo was taken only the top of his thighs were visible. While he could tell Iwaizumi the whole spiel about how his insecurity manifested, he isn’t going to.

He has no reason to, and they are standing in a public restroom. It's not an ideal place for heart to heart chats. But he does tell the truth.

“I’m not comfortable walking around like that,” he says, waiting for Iwaizumi to make a joke about how he obviously likes the attention or something along those lines. That's the response he's gotten from people in the past. 

“Okay, you can wear one of the shirts I bought today and just put your jacket in the bag." 

That leaves Oikawa utterly speechless. He can only nod in agreement. Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything else. They step out the stall, Oikawa is sure to pick up his cap. Sitting on the floor is a pile of shopping bags. The alpha must have dropped them when he rushed to check on his daughter. Speaking on his daughter, she’s very quiet and seems well-behaved. Although, she hasn’t stopped staring at Oikawa for a single moment. But that sort of thing is expected from children, isn’t it?

She’s pretty cute. Long, dark hair, the same shade as Iwaizumi’s, pale skin, unlike Iwaizumi, green eyes, and a round face. From the looks of it, she dressed herself. At least, Oikawa hopes the outfit is the child’s creation and not Iwaizumi’s. She’s wearing camouflage leggings, yellow flip flops, and a purple hoodie. There’s chipped, pink nail polish on her toes. It’s not like he can blame her for having zero fashion sense, her father doesn’t seem to have a fashionable bone in his body if the shirt he allows Oikawa to wear is any indication.

“You don’t have to give it back,” Iwaizumi says.

“No, I insist.” Oikawa’s not ruining his wardrobe by adding this lumberjack shirt to it. “Tell you what, how about I change real fast and you walk outside with me so I can give it right back.”

“Fine, we were leaving anyway.”

Without his team jacket on, Oikawa blends in easier, and the hoard of fans are nowhere in sight so, their walk outside is uneventful. Of all the people he had to bump into today, it turned out to be the man he _might_ have a tiny crush on. It's very tiny, though; a micro crush. 

“Where’s your car parked?” Iwaizumi asks once they’re outside.

“Right over her—”

“Papa, can the funny man eat lunch with us?” the little girl suddenly asks. 

Both adults freeze. Iwaizumi's daughter is no longer staring at Oikawa, but at her father expectantly. 

This entire time, Oikawa assumed the girl’s staring was due to the fact that he, like her, is an omega. Omegan children are known to be territorial of their alpha parents. The same way alpha children are territorial of their omegan parents. Children grow out of it eventually, faster if they have both parents present. Single parent kids are different cases. Oikawa doesn’t know how old the girl is, but she seems to be of that age.

However, now he isn't sure what to think. He doubts she likes him. Outside his nephew, Oikawa can't think of any kids who like him. Tiny fans he encounters after his games are the exception. To them, he's their hero, someone to look up to. They don't actually like him. 

“I’m sure Oikawa-san has other plans,” Iwaizumi says, he gives Oikawa a pointed look. 

Oikawa knows that means he’s supposed to go along with it, but he likes the idea of ticking Iwaizumi off. “Actually, little one, I’m free for a few hours. I’d love to go to lunch with you and your Papa!” He smiles at Iwaizumi who looks like he wants to strangle him. “What are we eating?”

She beams. “Pizza! Right, Papa?”

Iwaizumi forces a smile for his daughter’s sake. “That’s right, baby girl. We’re eating pizza.” He kisses her on the cheek, out the corner of his eye he sends Oikawa a death glare that should make the omega want to run for the hills, but if anything it exhilarates him.

Pissing off Iwaizumi is turning out to be his favorite pastime. 

“Baby girl,” Oikawa hums. “How cute.”

What an interesting turn of events. This is actually perfect. Oikawa can accompany father and daughter for lunch, and use this as a way to unravel the mystery that's Iwaizumi...he's just realized he doesn't know the alpha's given name. He adds that to the list of things he needs to learn. He’s positive this crush or whatever it is, is really just him being nosey. 

They walk to Iwaizumi's car that's conveniently in the same section as Oikawa's, just on a different row. Unsurprisingly, the alpha's car isn't anything flashy. But it's a newer model Camry and it's clean, on the outside. The inside isn't necessarily dirty, there's just a lot of children's books, broken crayons, and nail polish? all over the floors. Oikawa stands by the passenger door while Iwaizumi puts the shopping bags in the trunk, and buckles his daughter into her car seat. 

When they get in the car, Oikawa can sense how annoyed Iwaizumi is, or is it discomfort he's picking up on? Iwaizumi just looks tense, his thick brows furrowed and his mouth downturned. Perhaps tagging along wasn't the best idea. 

Iwaizumi starts the car. Immediately an upbeat song starts playing, the little girl sings along. 

_Mommy shark do do do do-do-do-do..._

The adults share a look, and this time, it's Oikawa who's unsettled. He opens his mouth to protest but doesn't get the chance. Keeping his eyes locked with Oikawa, Iwaizumi reaches for the volume dial, turning the song up, much to his daughter's delight. She cheers and claps happily, singing louder than before. Iwaizumi smirks at Oikawa, his eyes say it all. This doesn't bother him in the slightest because he's immune to it. This is simply to torture Oikawa, to pay him back for earlier. 

Oikawa's shook. He tried to play Iwaizumi, but he played himself. 

Iwaizumi's smiling when he drives out the parking lot. While he may have won this round, this isn't over. 

 

TBC 


	2. It's not stalking, it's  networking!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments, kudos, bookmarks, subs, and everything else! :)

“Oh-kawa!”

“Oikawa.”

“O-ee-kawa!”

“ _Oi_ -kawa.”

Tilting her head, Erina brows pinch, her lips slightly downturned. She appears to be processing what she heard, working hard to pronounce it to the best of her mental abilities. Suddenly, her eyes sparkle and she points at Oikawa.

“Oinkawa!” she exclaims, clapping happily.

While the child congratulates herself for what she deems a job well done, Oikawa has to fight back a scowl aimed in her direction. She’s only five, he reminds himself. She’s not intentionally trying to butcher his name. Even so, it really ticks him off. Mainly because Iwaizumi snorted loudly following the girl’s exclamation, and poorly hid it by taking a sip of his soda.

This makes it the second time today Iwaizumi has found amusement in the omega’s suffering; that little stunt in the car on the way over here is still fresh on his mind. And, he’s yet to return the favor. He's biding his time, that's all. 

“What’s your favorite pizza, Oinkawa-san?” Erina asks, leaning her elbows on the red table top. “Mines is cheese! And, and, Papa likes...um…” She glances at her father beside her.

“Neapolitan,” Iwaizumi fills in for her.

Erina nods vigorously. “Yeah, that kind!” She turns to Oikawa again. “What’s yours?!”

Children, he thinks, are very similar to elderly people, especially in the memory department. He already knows Erina’s favorite pizza is cheese because before the waitress came to take their order, she told him. Then while Iwaizumi was placing their orders, she told the server—and anyone within a one-mile radius because she’d yelled it. Now she’s just told him again. However, Oikawa isn’t going to point this out to her. He’s trying to get to know Iwaizumi, and if he isn’t careful around the man’s daughter he won’t get the chance.

“My favorite pizza is Hawaiian,” he answers. 

Iwaizumi pulls a face, his nose wrinkling at the omega’s choice in pizza. Otherwise, he keeps his opinion to himself, though, it doesn't take a genius to figure out where he stands on the pineapples on pizza discourse. The expression he made seems out of character for the grumpy man. Oikawa wants to say something about it, perhaps even tease the alpha, but then Erina is talking again, stealing his attention.

“What’s that?” she asks, half her body practically on the table now. It's like she's trying to get closer to the other omega. 

Calmly, Iwaizumi lifts her off the table, helps her sit correctly, and then scoots her chair closer to the table so she doesn’t have to lean so far. He’s gentle with her, Oikawa notes. Extremely patient, too. She’s only asked Oikawa a few questions and he’s already exhausted. But Iwaizumi doesn’t seem bothered one bit.

“It’s a pizza with pineapples and ham,” Iwaizumi answers patiently. “The pizza gets its name from Hawaii. Hawaii is a state in the United States of America. Pineapples are one of their main fruits.” He's answering her question and teaching her random facts. 

Oikawa doubts the little girl is going to process any of that. If anything, the man has opened the door for more questions.

“Oh,” Erina says, content with the explanation. She smiles to herself as she swings her feet in the chair, glancing around the restaurant curiously.

Well, that’s unexpected yet appreciated. Perhaps now he can do what he came here for.

“Oinkawa-san!”

A metaphorical vein throbs on the side of Oikawa’s head. This child.

“Yes, Rina-chan?” he asks, only knowing the girl’s name because she’d screamed it over the baby shark, or whatever it was, song during the ride here. He’s careful to mask his irritation. Iwaizumi may appear disinterested, but he knows the man's paying close attention to their interaction like a hawk. 

Erina smiles at the nickname the same way she did the first time he said it, her entire face lighting up. “You’re very pretty, Oinkawa-san,” she says, a blush on her cheeks.  

Letting out a choked sound, Oikawa stares at the girl, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights, Iwaizumi’s face mirroring his. The statement left them both speechless until their pizzas were brought out. A kid’s cheese pizza for Eina and a large pepperoni pizza for the adults. After thanking the waitress, Iwaizumi instructs Erina to wait until her pizza cools down before eating. She complies without a fuss. The alpha’s voice snaps Oikawa out his stupor.

“Thank you, Rina-chan,” he says, not sure what to make of the comment. 

Erina’s smile is wide, taking up her entire face. “You’re welcome!”

Once her father gives her the okay to eat, she wastes no time digging in, her attention no longer on Oikawa. But now he’s paying attention to her. Erina’s a messy eater, sauce and cheese on her face and hands. She's smacking loudly, too. It’s one of the grossest things he’s ever seen or heard. A glob of cheese drips on her purple hoodie. The girl looks down, lets out a quiet _‘oopsie’_ , and then continues eating.

Oddly, he finds it endearing, and then he frowns at himself for thinking that. He turns his gaze to Iwaizumi, hoping the man doesn’t share his daughter's table manners. What he finds is Iwaizumi’s hazel eyes on him, his side of the pizza untouched, just like Oikawa’s, both seem to have lost their appetites. He feels like he’s under a surgeon’s blade, being cut open, every part of him on display. The alpha is trying to figure out his aim, his purpose for agreeing to come here. 

It’s intimidating; he wants to avert his gaze, but that would be the same as admitting defeat. Oikawa hates losing. Iwaizumi isn’t the only one with an intense gaze. He aims one of his own at the alpha, conducting his own dissection. Uncertainty is the first emotion he discovers, followed by shame and remorse, the latter two emotions are confusing.

He tries to dig for more, for an explanation of sorts, some kind of understanding, but he’s hit with a mental wall so thick he can’t see beyond it. When Oikawa blinks and focuses his eyes on Iwaizumi again, there’s a warning there. He needs to back off. Proceeding would be counterproductive. If he tries to force his way in, Iwaizumi will shut him out forever.

“Papa,” Erina’s voice yanks them both back down to earth. She’s staring up at her father, concern on her face. “You’re not eating your pizza.”

That’s right. She can sense the changes in her father’s mood. Oikawa hasn’t thought of that until now. Parents and their young offspring are bonded in a way not so different from the way non-related adults are, but it isn’t entirely the same. He can't explain it properly because he doesn't remember what it feels like. Whatever bond he has with his parents isn't nearly the same as it was when he was a child. The bond has lessened over the years since he's long left the nest; the safety and comfort of his parents. Everyone experiences it. If their relationship with their parents is healthy, of course. 

Iwaizumi bounces back quickly. Smiling, he picks up a slice of pizza and takes a huge bite for show. “Yum,” he says enthusiastically. "It's good." 

Erina seems pleased. She looks to Oikawa, who also hasn’t eaten anything. Feeling the alpha’s eyes on him, he puts on his best smile as he grabs a slice of pizza, eating it. This works to put the girl at ease, and she’s smiling again, quietly humming a song to herself as she continues eating. The tension between Oikawa and Iwaizumi has also dissipated.

They’re on their third slice when Oikawa decides it’s safe to start a conversation. 

“I hear you’re best friends with Kyoutani-san,” he says, noticing the way Iwaizumi’s shoulders tense and then relax. “Did you two meet at university?”

“No, but we met while I was in university.”

“What university did you graduate from?”

“Tama.”

Oikawa’s eyebrows disappeared under his bangs. “You studied performing arts?” He wasn’t expecting that. “Are you into theater and all that?” An image of Iwaizumi in full costume singing opera on stage fills his mind and he can’t unthink it.

“I didn’t go for that,” Iwaizumi says, shifting uncomfortably. “What’s with the interrogation, anyway?”

The alpha thinks a few, casual questions are the same as an interrogation. Only a person with something to hide would think that way. Interesting. 

“I’m just making conversation, Iwaizumi-san.” He shrugs nonchalantly, picking up his half-eaten slice of pizza. “I don’t mind you asking me questions.”

“There’s nothing I want to know about you,” Iwaizumi deadpans.

Oikawa’s wounded, but he shakes it off. “Then again, I’m sure you know more about me already. I am famous, after all.” He takes a bite of the pizza, chewing slowly. Swallowing he says, “But there’s a lot the media doesn’t know about me.”

“I highly doubt that. You’re very chatty during your interviews.”

“So, you’ve watched my interviews before?” He grins. This is a good sign. But Iwaizumi doesn’t strike Oikawa as a fan. Even at the recreational center, during their first encounter, the alpha acted as if he could've cared less about who Oikawa was.

Iwaizumi maintains his indifference. “Hard not to. They play them a lot on the sports channel. I only see them because I like that channel.”

This is honestly new for Oikawa. Obviously, Iwaizumi is a volleyball fan. There's no way someone who plays as well as the alpha isn’t a fan. On top of that, he enjoys sports in general; enough to watch the sports channel regularly, however, he doesn’t seem impressed by Oikawa or remotely enthused about being in his presence. It hurts, but at the same time, it’s what makes him even more interested in Iwaizumi.

At least now he’ll know that any potential relationship between them, platonic or romantic, would be based off who Oikawa is as a person, not his fame.

Iwaizumi must feel guilty because he circles back to their earlier conversation without prompting. “I was more interested in videography in university,” he says, wiping his daughters' hands and face with a wet wipe from her bag. “I like working behind the scenes.”

“Is that what you do now?”

“Yeah.”

That explains the new Camry. If Iwaizumi works in the film industry, he’s more than likely well off. He still can’t get over the fact the alpha went to a performance arts university. Not to be a judger of book covers or anything, but Oikawa didn't take Iwaizumi for the artsy type. 

“Looks like someone’s ready for a nap,” Iwaizumi chuckles warmly.

Erina’s silence during their conversation makes sense now. The girl’s barely keeping her eyes open, her bottom lip poked out as she fights her sleep. Oikawa watches Iwaizumi gather the girl into his arms and hold her against his chest, her head resting on his right shoulder. He’s a little jealous that it’s not him being held like that by Iwaizumi. Then he realizes that’s not the kind of thought he should have for someone he only has a micro-crush on. 

When the waitress brings out the check, Oikawa automatically reaches for his wallet.

“I’ve got it.” Iwaizumi waves him off. He takes his wallet out his pocket, holding his daughter with one, sturdy arm. After he gives his card to the waitress, he cups the back of Erina’s head tenderly.

“Oh, thank you, Iwaizumi-san.” Then he remembers. “I never got your full name.”

“I don’t see why you need it.”

“Indulge me.”

Iwaizumi is giving the omega that look again like he’s trying to figure him out. He’s guarded and cautious. Oikawa wonders why that is. Witness protection comes to mind, but he knows that’s just his obsession with crime dramas talking. But the alpha is definitely hiding something, and it's not that Iwaizumi's being obvious about it. Actually, he's still a hard person to read. It's just that Oikawa has so much experience with hiding that he knows when someone else is doing it. 

“Iwaizumi Hajime,” the alpha says.

Oikawa considers it a victory. From the way things were going, he thought he was going to have to ask Yahaba, and he didn’t want to do that. Because that would make it seem like he cared way more than he did.

“It’s nice to meet you, Iwaizumi Hajime, I’m Oikawa Tooru.” He’s just trolling now.

The waitress returns with Iwaizumi’s credit card, depriving Oikawa of a response from the alpha. Erina’s still sleeping as they leave the restaurant and while Iwaizumi buckles her into her car seat. Oikawa spares her a glance over his shoulder as if to check on her before her father gets into the car and he isn’t sure why. He doesn’t overthink it.

With the little twerp knocked out, he doesn’t have to suffer through that infuriating shark song again and he’s thankful. A glance at the clock on the car’s dashboard lets Oikawa know he has an hour or so until it’s time for him to have his photo taken for a new sports drink campaign. This time one of his teammates will be accompanying him so at least it'll be fun. 

“Why did you agree to come?” Iwaizumi suddenly asks. They’re a block away from the mall where Oikawa’s car is still parked.

Oikawa’s caught off guard, but he’s accustomed to thinking on his feet. “Your daughter invited me. I didn’t want to turn her down,” he says.

Iwaizumi’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, the muscles in his arms spasming. “I can tell you don’t really like kids.” He glances at Oikawa, daring him to deny it. The omega says nothing. “I get it, and I’m sure you have your reasons. But as a father you understand why I’m not okay with having people like that around my daughter, right?”

He nods.

“Why did you really come?”

Honesty seems like the best way to go. But Oikawa isn’t going to tell the whole truth. “You’re one of the best wing spikers I’ve ever played with. I wanted to get to know you. I was hoping we could play again in the future. I would’ve just said that, to begin with, but you’re not that approachable, you know. I was also grateful for you helping me evade my fans." 

Iwaizumi’s expression softens. He drives into the mall’s parking lot and turns down the row Oikawa directs him to until he reaches the omega’s car and parks. 

Sighing, the alpha faces Oikawa. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure…” He shakes his head. “If you’re ever short a player again, I’ll fill in if I can. Just have Kyoutani let me know.”

“Okay, I’ll do that.” A pause. “By the way, I didn’t mean for it to come off like I hated children because I don’t hate them. I’m not heartless. If you felt I was rude toward your daughter, I apologize.”

“No, you were fine with her, but I could tell you were...uncomfortable to say the least. Like I said before, I get it. But…”

“Yeah, I understand.” Oikawa opens the passenger door, wanting to get away as quickly as possible. He plasters on his fakest smile. “Well, thanks for everything, Iwaizumi-san! I have to get going!”

Oikawa doesn’t bother waiting for a response, and he doesn’t spare the alpha another glance as he closes the door behind him and walks to his car. When he’s inside, he can see Iwaizumi is still parked behind him. He can’t tell what the alpha is doing, but the fact he’s still there makes Oikawa wonder.

However, soon Iwaizumi’s driving off, leaving Oikawa in the hands of his own imagination. 

* * *

“Hey, brat!” a deep voice booms from the front door of the apartment.

Erina dashes down the hallway, almost tripping over her own feet. “Uncle Kyou! Uncle Kyou!” she screams happily, running into the alpha’s arms.

Kyoutani scoops the girl up, swinging her around in the air in one swoop, and then clutching her in his arms. “You’re getting heavy,” he says, feigning exertion. “Guess that means you’re a big girl now.”

“I’m starting kin’garten tomorrow! I am a big girl!”

Sighing, Iwaizumi closes the front door behind Kyoutani, locking it. “You have a lot of energy,” he remarks, walking back to the couch where he and Erina were watching television before his friend’s arrival. “I thought the long shifts would’ve drained you by now.”

Carrying Erina on his back, Kyoutani joins Iwaizumi in the den, taking a seat on the carpeted floor. “Today’s my off day. I slept in.” He reaches behind his back and tickles Erina, smiling at the sound of her giggles. “You cooked today?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head.

“What’s with you people?” he grumbles. “Shigeru’s not cooking, you’re not cooking. It’s a Sunday!”

“And that means?”

Kyoutani scowls. But his face relaxes when Erina climbs over his shoulder and plops herself down on his lap. “What did you eat today, brat?” he asks her.

“Giri!” she says, using her nickname for Onigiri.

“Store bought?” Kyoutani asks Iwaizumi.

“Yep.”

“Ew,” the alpha says. “You can’t feed my brat that crap!”

“I got the Organic kind.”

“That’s a scam!”

"She likes it.” Inwardly, Iwaizumi wonders why he and Kyoutani sound like a married couple. "It’s not processed. I made sure." 

Erina nods. “I do love Giri, Uncle Kyou!”

“I know you do, brat.” Kyoutani drops the subject of food and starts asking Erina if she's ready for her first day of "big girl" school tomorrow. 

It still surprises Iwaizumi how great Kyoutani is with Erina. When he first met the man, they were both in a dark place, struggling to free themselves from a hell of their own making. He never thought they’d end up where they are now in life. Kyoutani has gotten his anger in check. He’s now a police officer who’s passionate about his career, he’s a wonderful boyfriend to Yahaba, and an amazing Godfather/honorary uncle to Erina. Iwaizumi’s very proud of Kyoutani, but he knows if he confesses that it’ll make the man flustered. 

Somehow Kyoutani’s conversation with Erina about kindergarten takes a sudden turn, and his thoughts are put on immediate hold.

“We met a funny man at the mall yesterday. He was being chased by _vans_ ," Erina says, poorly summarizing yesterday's events. "Papa gave the funny man his clothes. He ate pizza with me and Papa! Then...then...Oinkawa-san...that's the funny man's name...said he likes...um _pinecone_ pizza and—”

“What did you say the funny man’s name was again?” Kyoutani asks to make sure he heard correctly.

“Oinkawa-san!” Erina says. “He was very pretty! Right, Papa?” She looks over at Iwaizumi.

Kyoutani’s staring at Iwaizumi as well, waiting for an answer, and Iwaizumi’s tongue-tied.

“Well, he’s not hideous…he’s okay looking.”

Erina crosses her tiny arms over her chest, frowning up at her papa. “Oinkawa-san is very pretty! He smells nice and he’s pretty!”

“Okay, baby girl,” Iwaizumi says, stunned by her fondness for the athlete. “You’re right. Oikawa-san is very pretty.”

“He smells nice too!” Erina stubbornly reminds him.

“And he smells nice.”

Kyoutani's judging Iwaizumi so hard right now for being shoved into a corner by a five-year-old. But he can't talk because it's happened to him plenty of times by that same five-year-old. 

Erina grins, dropping her arms to her side. Then, her smile fades. "Papa, what happened to Oinkawa-san?" she asks. "When I woke up, he disappeared..." 

This is the last question Iwaizumi was expecting his daughter to ask him. Ever. She's only met Oikawa once but won't stop talking about him. He doesn't understand it. It's not like the omega was exuding friendly vibes toward her. Perhaps it's because he doesn't have her around new people often, especially not omegas. That's more than likely the case. 

"Oikawa-san had to go to work," Iwaizumi says. 

Erina accepts the explanation, but she doesn't seem content with it. 

Kyoutani's mouth is hanging open. "Brat, you actually like that...I mean, Oikawa?" 

"He was pretty!" she says as if that explains everything. 

While Iwaizumi was reluctant to say it, he does think Oikawa is pretty, actually, he’s beautiful. Iwaizumi noticed the first time he saw him on television. The omega’s a brilliant setter and he’s the best setter the national team has had in a very long time. Iwaizumi will admit that; never to Oikawa, the man's ego is big enough as it is. But that’s where his thoughts concerning Oikawa end. 

As far as the omega’s scent, he has no comment because it’s obvious that he takes suppressants and uses blockers. So, how is it that Erina knows what Oikawa smells like?

“My guess is, it’s ‘cause her sense of smell is sharper ‘cause she’s so young,” Kyoutani says, several moments have passed, they’re standing in the den while Erina is in her room grabbing fingernail polish. “Blockers can fail for a number of reasons. Maybe yesterday his had and that’s how she smelled him.”

Iwaizumi accepts the explanation, if only because he can’t think of any other reason. “Erina isn’t around omegas a lot. I think that’s why she seems so fascinated by him. But her new teacher’s an omega." 

“Iwaizumi,” Kyoutani starts, tone serious, “you know I get why you’re intent on raising her alone, but I really think she’d benefit from having an omega in her life. Not as a just teacher, but as a mother.”

“I appreciate your concern. I really do, but if you understand why I’m against having a mate then you shouldn’t suggest that to me, ever.”

Kyoutani’s frown deepens, his fist balling at his sides as he glares at Iwaizumi. “You’ve got to stop beating yourself up over that! It wasn’t—”

“ _Don’t_ finish that sentence,” he growls under his breath, eyes darkening.

They can hear the clicking of glass containers bumping together. Erina runs into the room, hands filled with different color nail polish.

“Uncle Kyou! Papa!” she says loudly, bubbling with delight. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, brat,” Kyoutani says, voice free of its previous anger. He drops the subject; for now. “Let me see what colors you’ve got!” He walks over to the couch, taking a seat and removing his socks off.

Iwaizumi follows, shoving his own anger down, deep within himself. 

They both sit on the couch, socks off, feet resting on the pink towel that’s used only for times like these. Erina’s on the floor, concentrating on the task of painting Kyoutani’s toenails electric blue. Her father is still deciding on what color he wants. He has to take his time choosing because if he picks the same color as last time she’ll get upset and pick for him. The last time that happened she chose glitter and it took forever to take it off.

The rule is, Erina can only paint their toes since they rarely have their feet out. No one is around to see Iwaizumi's feet, and Yahaba's so used to it by now that every time after Kyoutani visits Iwaizumi's place, the omega automatically asks to see what new color his boyfriend has. 

“Is there anything I should know about Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asks when he’s sure Erina isn’t listening because she’s too focused. “It can’t hurt to ask.”

Kyoutani shrugs. “I try to keep my distance. People like Oikawa stress me out.” He peers down at his toes, curious to know how they’re coming along. He smiles at the progress; she’s getting better. “I can never tell what he’s thinking or what his motives are. But I respect him. He's loyal and hardworking from what I've seen." 

Iwaizumi knows Kyoutani well enough to know if the alpha respects someone, they've earned it, and it wasn’t easy. That alone speaks volumes of Oikawa’s character. He isn’t opposed to them being acquaintances based off that. Playing volleyball this past Saturday was fun and served to release some pent-up stress. He hopes they can play again soon.

* * *

 

Oikawa’s not stalking Iwaizumi, because that would be crazy, and he’s the sanest person he knows.

He’s simply looking him up on different social media platforms because that’s how people network these days. Networking. Yeah, that’s what he’s doing. Saturday morning volleyball at the rec center is an important, community event. He’s just looking out for his team’s best interests. In case someone can’t show up to play, they’ll have a backup.

Does it matter that, if they do require Iwaizumi as a replacement, Kyoutani can easily contact him? No, it doesn’t. It never hurts to have two points of contact. That’s what Oikawa’s telling himself as he types Iwaizumi’s full name into every search bar. Facebook was a bust, and so was Twitter. But bless Instagram.

Oikawa types the man’s name in and is surprised when a _hajimeiwaizumi__ shows up as the only result. More surprising than that is the blue, check mark beside Iwaizumi’s username, indicating a verified account. He clicks on the profile, sees the number of followers Iwaizumi has, and his shock increases. Granted, the man doesn’t have nearly as many as he does, but he has way more than Oikawa thought he would.

The first thing he notices about Iwaizumi’s page is the one sentence bio; if it can be called a sentence.

_Videographer & foley artist at Imagica Studios. _

Below the bio is a link to Iwaizumi’s personal website, that Oikawa will check out later.

The second thing he notices is the quality of Iwaizumi’s photos. All of them look professional, even the pictures of Erina which aren’t that many. The alpha has three pictures of his daughter on his page. Besides that, there’s a lot of landscape shots that are mesmerizing in their high quality, and obscure ones that’re strange yet aesthetically pleasing.

In one photo of Erina, the girl’s wearing a ridiculous pair of ice cream cone sunglasses, blue jean overalls, and green chucks, her hair is styled into pigtails and she’s hugging the neck of a Shiba Inu, a big smile plastered on her face. With a closer look, Oikawa can see a familiar collar around the dog’s neck. It’s Kyoutani’s dog, Pocky. Erina’s making a snow angel in another picture, and in the last picture of her, it’s night time and she’s holding a lit sparkler, her face filled with awe.

There’s only one picture of Iwaizumi, much to Oikawa’s disappoint. Fortunately, it’s a great picture. Iwaizumi’s wearing a black tank top that fits him like it was painted on, his muscular arms and neck on full display. His backdrop is a beautiful, verdant mountain range that spans for miles. But it’s not the man’s physique or the scenery that makes Oikawa’s mouth go dry, but the expression on Iwaizumi's face. He isn't smiling, not really. He's smirking as though he's overly pleased with himself. There's a light in his eyes, and it has nothing to do with the way the sun's rays fall on his tan skin. 

Iwaizumi's gorgeous, and Oikawa's fucked.  

“Who’s the hunk?” a voice asks from behind Oikawa, making the omega squeak loudly and almost drop his phone.

One of his teammates, Kuroo Tetsurou, climbs over the seat effortlessly and sits down in the chair beside Oikawa who’s been so engaged in his task of lurking that he didn’t notice the gym was no longer empty. This entire time he’s been waiting on his teammates to arrive for their Monday morning meeting and following practice.

He held his phone away from Kuroo’s prying eyes, the screen facing the opposite direction.

“Cute kid!” Another one of his teammates says, taking the chair on Oikawa’s other side.

Oikawa clutches the phone to his chest and gives Bokuto Koutarou a scathing look that the alpha only chuckles at. Then he registers what the alpha said about a cute kid. The last picture he was looking at was of Iwaizumi. Quickly, he glances down at his phone and is met with the picture of Erina holding the sparkler. He clicked on it by accident when he almost dropped his phone.

Clicking on the picture wasn’t the only thing he did, either. He liked it. He liked a forty-eight week old picture. Panicking, he hurriedly unlikes the photo. That's one of the biggest lurking "don'ts" with the first one being to not lurk in the first place; everyone ignores that rule. 

“They’ll still get the notification,” Kuroo says, amused. “Speaking from experience over here.”

“It’s your fault for creeping up on me like that!” He turned his head, glaring at Bokuto. “You too! I was doing a fine job before you two came and ruined everything!”

Bokuto yawns, rubbing his eyes. His streaked hair is flat beneath his backwards baseball cap. “Relax, Oikawa,” he says, good-natured as always albeit lacking his usual enthusiasm. “The worst that can happen is the person will block you for being weird.”

“I fail to see why that’s a legit reason for me to relax. And what’s up with you? I’ve never seen you like this. Normally, Kuroo’s the train wreck in the morning.”

Kuroo doesn’t argue with that. He’s probably thinking about his bed right now.

“Keiji and I were up all night—”

Oikawa waves his hands. “Nope. No, thank you. Forget I asked,” he says, thinking the man was going to share his sexual exploits. 

“Yeah, Bo’, please spare us,” Kuroo says, sounding pained. “It's far too early." 

“It’s nothing like that.” Bokuto covers his mouth, stifling another yawn. “I kinda wished it was, but no. My family visited over the weekend so Keiji didn’t have enough time to decorate his classroom for today. I offered to help him late last night because I know it means a lot to him.”

Kuroo reaches behind Oikawa’s chair, reaching over to pat Bokuto’s shoulder. “You’re a shining example for us all, Bro. Keiji’s still teaching kindergarten?” 

Bokuto nods.

“Wasn’t he offered a position at a university?” Oikawa asks.

“Yeah, he turned it down. He really likes working with kids.” Bokuto leans closer to Oikawa, owlish eyes wide. “Speaking of kids, who were you lurking? Kuroo said something about a hunk. Is it a guy you like? Come on, tell us!”

“Some guy named Hajime,” Kuroo says, smirking at the stunned expression on Oikawa’s face. “I was standing behind you long enough to get a glimpse of his username. The guy has a kid, huh?”

“You were standing behind me that long?! Stalker much!”

“Look who’s talking.”

“I’m not stalking—” Oikawa closes his mouth, seeing no point in trying to explain himself, especially when both alphas are giving him those looks; those ‘we know the truth’ looks. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter because as you’ve both deduced, he has a kid and that’s a no for me.”

Hopefully, that’s the end of it. Of course, he should know better by now. He’s been on the same team as Bokuto and Kuroo for over a year now, and their friendship isn’t limited to the court or the outside work they oftentimes do together. 

Bokuto’s the first to speak. “Did you know he had a kid before you lurked his Instagram?” The omega’s face says it all. “If you weren’t interested, you wouldn’t have cared to do that?” he poses it as a question only because he doesn’t like to push people's buttons.

Meanwhile, Kuroo lives to push people’s buttons. “You were staring at him like he was a warm slice of milk break. You’re definitely interested.”

“Shut up, Kuroo!” Oikawa says.

Honestly, Oikawa hasn’t thought about Iwaizumi at all until that morning. The remainder of his Saturday, and all day Sunday, he kept himself busy. He didn’t want to think about Iwaizumi and the man’s obvious lack of interest in him. He only decided to find Iwaizumi’s social media to kill time while he waited for their team meeting to start. Once again, the baristas at his favorite cafe were on top of their game, making Oikawa earlier than usual.

“Why don’t you like kids again?” Bokuto asks, taking off his cap and rustling his hair, trying to make it stand without styling gel. It’s futile. “You’re always really nice when we visit schools.”

“Me not liking kids doesn’t mean I’m malicious toward them. At least not intentionally. Kids are just difficult to be around.” He always finds himself high-strung around kids. “I’d also like to be the top priority in a relationship. I can’t be that if there’s a kid in the picture.”

“At least you’re honest, I guess. It’s weird when omegas say they don’t like kids.” Bokuto slaps himself on the forehead. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that ‘cause you’re an omega you have to act a certain way or like a certain thing!”

“It’s okay,” Oikawa says, knowing Bokuto’s being sincere. “I understand what you were trying to say.”

“Maybe that’s it.” Kuroo’s expression is contemplative. “Maybe you don’t actually dislike kids. It’s society’s assumption that, as an omega, you should want kids and be happy about it, that you hate. So, in your efforts to reject societal norms, you’re targeting all your frustration at children. By keeping them at a distance, you feel like you're sticking it to...the man or whoever's in charge of things around here." He shrugs. 

Oikawa’s speechless. Sometimes he has to remind himself that outside of merciless teasing and immature pranks, Kuroo’s highly intelligent and observant. The alpha made a very good point. It’s a point Oikawa has never even considered. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have the time to ponder over it now because their head coach has stepped into the gym.

At the sight of the man, the trio stands and head to the court for their meeting. 

* * *

 _the_O1kawaTooru_ _liked your photo._

The notification sits amongst a mountain of emails, text messages, and the daily weather report. Iwaizumi almost misses it, having grown accustomed to overlooking Instagram likes and comments. In a more alert state, he might’ve ignored it entirely. But his internal clock has woken him up, the remaining dregs of sleep clouding his judgment.

Tapping the notification, he’s taken to the app, but is met with an error page. Oikawa must’ve liked a picture by mistake and then unliked it. He wonders what picture it was. Iwaizumi doesn’t remember giving Oikawa his url. He’s too tired to consider how easy it is for anyone to find his Instagram by simply typing in his full name. But even in his current state, he's trying to figure out why the omega searched for his page, to begin with. 

For some reason, the alert still shows up in his notification log. Without contemplating his actions, he clicks on Oikawa’s username. The athlete has millions of followers and is only following thirty people. His bio is long and the overuse of emoji deter Iwaizumi from reading.

There’s so many pictures. Pictures of Oikawa at the gym, not shirtless like most gym goers, pictures of elaborate meals at upscale restaurants, a picture of a starry night with a caption that vaguely suggests aliens are watching over us, and endless pictures of Oikawa hanging around backstage at photoshoots. 

Iwaizumi gets the feeling this isn’t the omega’s personal page, that it’s all for show, for the fans. It reminds him of a virtual home tour with mock families strategically placed around in different rooms to give off the impression of ideal living. Staged. All of it looks staged. This is why Iwaizumi prefers to work behind the scenes, out of the limelight. 

Oikawa’s smiling. But in the same way he was when he got out of Iwaizumi’s car Saturday.

Fake as hell.

He think he’s seen more than enough, and is about to leave the page when he sees a photo of Oikawa standing in between two men. All three of them are wearing their red national team jerseys, damp with sweat. They look like they just finished an intense game. The men have their arms around Oikawa’s shoulder as they smile at the camera, and Oikawa’s holding up the victory sign, his own smile blinding.

Iwaizumi’s first thought is that, this is real, it’s genuine. It’s a good look. His eyes hone in, blurring out the faces of the other people in the photo and focusing solely on the man in the middle. He doesn’t stop staring until his phone’s alarm clock goes off minutes later. Soon afterward, the alpha can hear the small, pitter-patter of feet on the hardwood floors of his bedroom, and it’s the only warning he gets before Erina jumps on the bed.

“Papa, wake up!” she shouts, straddling his chest and tapping his covered head. “Time for kin’garten!”

Poking his head from under the comforter, he gives the girl a sleepy smile. “I’m up.” He throws the covers back, purposefully shrouding her in them. She laughs and wiggles under the heavy fabric. “I gotta’ make breakfast first.”

Erina frees herself, her dark hair all over her face. “Pancakes!” she says. “I want pancakes!”

Iwaizumi gets out of bed, picks the girl up and carries her over his shoulder all the way to the kitchen. “Okay, then we’re having pancakes," he says. 

"Yay!!" 

He purposefully leaves his phone behind, hoping that’ll help to get Oikawa’s smiling face out of his head so he can direct his full attention on getting Erina ready for his first day. The plan works for the most part, but in the back of his head, the image is still there.

TBC 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random fact: All of Erina's nail polishes are toxin-free! 
> 
> Also, I know it may seem like things are falling into place, with Oikawa given a new perspective on his dislike for kids, but I just wanted to say that the road ahead is long and bumpy. Just a heads up! If anyone's interested in headcanons about this story, feel free to send me an ask on my writing Tumblr! Username is the same as on here. 
> 
>  
> 
> [Erina’s Ice Cream shades!](https://www.etsy.com/listing/525560458/ice-cream-cone-sunglasses-eye-scream)


	3. First Day

Everything and Iwaizumi means _everything_ , is perfect that morning.

Iwaizumi does a decent job in the kitchen overall, but he’s made a lot of mistakes. But today, he’s like a top chef. The pancakes he makes are a perfect size, the perfect color. Erina even praises her Papa for not making the pancakes too brown because she doesn’t like them that way.

Following breakfast, Iwaizumi doesn’t have to beg or bribe Erina to let him brush her teeth. She stands on her stepping stool, mouth wide, presenting her tiny teeth to the toothbrush. She doesn’t even complain about the ‘icky taste’ at all.

On a typical day, dressing Erina is the most difficult, stressful, and taxing activity. She's very particular about her clothes and can be stubborn. Iwaizumi allows her to pick out her own clothes, but today he does it. He can’t have her wearing a lizard onesie or a Power Rangers costume to her first day of preschool. Surprisingly, she doesn't put up a fight. 

The outfit Iwaizumi picks out is plain compared to his daughter’s preferable outfit choices. He dresses her in a lavender skirt with a matching top that has a white kitten printed on it, and he styles her hair in a neat bun, adorning it with a white bow.

Iwaizumi watched a lot of YouTube tutorials and learned how to do a bun, pigtails, and a French braid so his daughter isn’t always walking around with wild hair, though, wild hair is her preference.

While he quickly changes into day clothes, Erina actually sits on the couch, quietly, and watches morning cartoons.

Perfect. Everything is absolutely perfect.

“Ready to go, baby girl?” Iwaizumi asks, picking Erina’s backpack off the accent table by the door.

Erina nods excitedly. “I’m ready!” She holds her arms out to let her father secure the backpack.

The drive to Erina’s school is smooth considering traffic is as brutal as ever. Iwaizumi’s road rage is contained for the most part. He shouts the curses inside his head and refrains from cutting people off or switching lanes to get away from slow ass drivers. Only because Erina’s in the backseat. Whenever he drives alone, Iwaizumi’s a speed demon.

Despite the traffic, they arrive around the same time as other parents who are shuffling out of their cars, pups in tow, leading them into the brightly painted door of the building. Aside from the colorful front door, the building looks modern and immaculate. It’s one of the best schools in the city, after all.

“Remember our rules for kindergarten,” Iwaizumi says as they walk through the door. He politely nods at the parents and staff members he passes, not missing the lack of alphas in the mix. “Do as Akaashi-sensei says, be respectful at all times, and please, don’t growl like ‘Zilla at any of your classmates. Or anyone.”

Erina is only half-listening, a majority of her attention is on the doors of the different classrooms they pass. Each room appears to have their own theme. One door has a honeycomb on it, the student’s names written on small bees, and her face lights up when she sees it.

“Erina-chan are you listening?”

“No,” she answers. “Sorry, papa. Can you tell me again?”

At least she’s honest.

Iwaizumi repeats the rules again.

“I will be on my best behavior. Pinky swear!”

"I trust you." 

When Iwaizumi sees a dark-haired omega standing outside a door, wearing a beige smock over his clothes, he smiles. This is his second time meeting Akaashi Keiji with their first encounter being at orientation two weeks ago. He’s ashamed by his first impression of the omega. But he’s not blind. Akaashi is very attractive and looks like he should be modeling or acting; not to say that teachers can’t be good looking.

“Iwaizumi-san,” Akaashi greets as they approach, “and Erina-chan, hello! Are you excited about your first day of kindergarten?” He bends over so he’s eye level with the pup, hands clasped, smiling pleasantly.

Erina beams. “Yes! I”m very very ‘cited!”

“I’m happy to hear it. I have a lot of fun things planned for today. Why don’t you head on in and ask Yachi-san to show you to your cubby.”

Iwaizumi was hoping he could walk Erina in and help her with her cubby. From the knowing look Akaashi gives him, the omega is doing this on purpose.

Erina doesn’t seem to mind. “Okay!” She looks up at her father. “Goodbye, Papa! See you later!”

Watching her scamper off into the classroom, makes him sad for some reason. He should be happy she’s not kicking and screaming like some of the other kids are; none appear to be in Akaashi’s classroom. The omega has a way of soothing pups and adults alike.

“If you hold her hand all the way, it’ll be harder to let go,” Akaashi says, straightening up. “Don’t look so gloom, Iwaizumi-san. It’s kindergarten. You can start worrying when she’s old enough for junior high.”

“I don’t even want to think about that. “

“Few parents do.”

“Don’t hesitate to call me for anything. This is her first day and she’s never really been away from me for too long. Even with daycare, she was there for three hours top and--”

Akaashi touches Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “Breathe Iwaizumi-san,” he whispers and the change in Iwaizumi’s mood is instant. “Everything is going to be okay. Remember, your distress can have an impact on her.”

Iwaizumi sighs, “Sorry, I’m just--”

“A good, caring parent. Nothing wrong with that. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have other parents to greet. You’re free to call my direct line during the day if you require further reassurance.”

“No, thank you. You’ve been helpful enough. See you later, Akaashi-san.”

He spares one last look into the classroom and smiles when he sees Erina already chatting with her classmates. He isn’t sure why he was worried in the first place. She's going to do just fine. 

* * *

“You’re ditching us again?” Oikawa asks, giving his teammate a scathing glare. “This is the third week you’ve fed us some crappy excuse. Are you seeing someone?”

Chuckling, Kuroo scratches the back of his head.

It’s a dead giveaway that’s he’s indeed hiding something. Oikawa and Bokuto crowd the alpha, forcing him against the hood of his gaudy sports car; it’s red and fast and an attention grabber. Kuroo even has his name on the license plate.

“You guys know if I was seeing anyone, I’d tell you first.”

Bokuto scoffs. “You were in a relationship for a whole month once and didn’t tell us anything until they dumped you.” Oikawa nods in agreement. Continuing, he taps his chin, feigning contemplation. “There has been a new scent on you lately. Something fruity…”

Kuroo’s eyes widen. “R-really?” He sniffs his shirt. “I thought I was being careful,” he mutters.

“Aha!” Oikawa exclaims, raising his index finger in the air triumphantly. “So, you are seeing someone. Wow, you were really going to hide it from us. The nerve!”

“Okay, okay. I am kinda’ seeing someone. But it’s new. We’re still in the ‘getting to know’ phase. Once we’re more established, I promise to introduce you.”

“What’s their name?” Bokuto asks. “Can we at least know that?”

Kuroo shakes his head. “I won’t spill. They want to keep things on a low-radar for now. I have to respect their wishes.”

“Look at you, being respectable for a change. You must really like them.” Oikawa’s only teasing; Kuroo is one of the most respectable alphas he knows, and men like that are hard to find these days. “I suppose we can forgive you for ditching our lunch dates.”

“I’ll make it up to guys. We can do dinner one night.”

“Sure, whatever,” Bokuto says with a dismissive wave. “You’re going to just stand us up again.” He isn’t going to let his best friend off that easily. “Anyway, we gotta’ go. Akaashi is waiting for me to drop his lunch off.”

The trio part ways. Oikawa gets in the car with Bokuto.

Every week, they choose a random day to have lunch together. For their first year on the team, it was the three of them, and they rarely missed a week. But lately, Kuroo has been meeting with his secret lover for lunch. Of course, Bokuto and Oikawa don’t seriously mind it. They enjoy hanging out together just the two of them.

“So, about this daddy of yours,” Bokuto jokes, keeping both eyes on the street ahead as he drives.

Oikawa leans over, turning up the radio’s volume. “Sorry, can’t hear you!”

Bokuto turns the radio off. “You heard me. I want to know more about this alpha. It’s been a while since you’ve shown this kind of interest in anyone.”

“You know why that is.” Unconsciously, the omega wrings in his hands in the hem of his shirt. His hands still when a larger hand is settled on it. Oikawa smiles at Bokuto. “Thanks. I thought I’d broke that habit…”

“It’s okay, Oikawa. I understand. We don’t have to talk about this guy if it makes you think about _that_.”

“It’s fine. Really.” He’s pissed he’s still allowing something so old to bother him. “But, Iwaizumi-san is good looking, has a sense of humor from what I’ve seen, and he has a daughter. That’s all there is to it.”

“Well, I guess that’s it.” A pause. “Can I ask you something?”

“Ask away. But don’t expect an answer.”

“Are you still meeting with your therapist?”

Lying is the first thing that comes to mind because it’s his default reaction whenever he’s backed into a corner. However, when it comes to Bokuto, lying is a bad idea. For one, lying to a friend is messed up, especially when that friend knows you’re lying. It’s insulting. Oikawa cares about Bokuto too much to insult him.

“I’ve been busy,” he says, staring out the window. “Photoshoots and all that.”

“Your agent isn’t pressuring you again, is he?”

There’s an edge to the alpha’s voice that tugs at Oikawa’s instincts. “No, he’s calmed down ever since Yahaba gave him an ear full.” He smirks at the memory. “Then you and Kuroo paid him a visit the same day. I’m sure he knows better than to cross you three.”

Instead of taking his high school coach’s advice, Oikawa joined the national team after two years of university, making him, not only the first omegan player but the youngest player in decades. That earned him a lot of attention, mostly unwanted attention. In his eagerness to become famous, he did everything his agent told him, participated in all the risque photoshoots despite how uncomfortable they made him.

Following one campaign, his fanbase skyrocketed and he started to receive fan mail. Some of the mail Oikawa received was disturbing, to say the least. To this day, he isn’t sure if it was one person or different people writing rape fantasies starring him.

Then there’s the stalking incidents and that one home invasion.

Now Oikawa hates the idea of exposing too much skin in public or doing suggestive photo shoots. He only posts staged photos on his Instagram for appearance's sake, no longer willing to share his true self with the masses. His agent still tried to pressure him, but his friends took care of that since Oikawa can’t break his contract for another eight months. 

“Have the nightmares started back?”

Oikawa sighs, “What’s with the line of questioning? I swear I’m fine.”

“It’s just that...that thing you did with your hands earlier. You used to do it a lot when all that was happening. But when you started seeing your therapist it stopped. Now it’s back again…”

Thinking back to how nervous and skittish he was all the time is upsetting. Oikawa always prides himself on being levelheaded, strong, and independent. But that moment in his life stripped him of all that. Every moment was spent afraid, glancing over his shoulder and being dependent on others. He’s been rebuilding himself over the past months.

Yet it’s like he’s relapsing.

“No nightmares,” Oikawa assures the alpha. At least they haven’t started yet. “I’ll schedule an appointment with my therapist by the end of the week.”

Bokuto is pleased to hear that. “Let me know if you need a support buddy!”

“I will.” He relaxes, glad to have that out of the way. “Okay, what does Akaashi want for lunch. Please, don’t say Onigiri.”

“My baby wants rice balls for lunch!”

“That’s the same thing!”

“Well, you asked me not to say Onigiri…”

“You and your picky mate are made for each other. Both of you are irritating.”

Bokuto laughs.

. . .

“I don’t see why I have to come inside.”

“Because I don’t know how long I’ll be and Akaashi will be happy to see you.”

“I’m sure all Akaashi cares about is your goofy face and his stupid Onigiri.”

“Not true,” Bokuto says, opening the colorful door for the omega, stepping in behind him. “He cares about a whole lot of things. Like his new students. He keeps texting about them. Thinks he’s ready for a pup of our own.” 

They show the security guard at the front desk their identification cards before they're given visitor passes. 

Oikawa glances around the hallway at all the different doors. Each one has a theme. There’s even a Star Wars one. He’s tempted to knock on the door and praise the teacher for having exceptional taste. But he doesn’t want to weird anyone out. On his right, there’s a door with a large tree with small owls sitting on the branches, the children's names written in neat handwriting.

Obviously, this is Akaashi’s classroom.

“I’ll allow you to do the honor,” Oikawa says, moving aside so Bokuto can knock on the door.

Bokuto knocks quietly. Moments later, the door is opened by the head teacher. Akaashi eyes zero in on the paper bag in Bokuto’s hands, and then at the alpha. Just as Oikawa said, all this gremlin cares about is his food and his mate.

“Thank you,” Akaashi says, opening the door wider. “Hi, Oikawa-san. It’s been a while.” He smiles one of his perfect smiles.

He’s gorgeous and Oikawa can’t help but want to compete with him all the time, though, in harmless fun. They’re actually good friends.

“Akaashi-san, cute classroom.”

Oikawa walks in behind Bokuto and he immediately feels like a giant. Everything is so miniature; the chairs, the tables, the cubbies, the humans.

“Thanks, my wonderful mate helped me.” Akaashi takes the bag from Bokuto and puts it in his mini-fridge. "How was practice?" 

The children are on the other side of the room, playing with blocks while the assistant teacher keeps an eye on them. Oikawa is more interested in the decorations. There are hanging plants in the corner that catch his eye. While Akaashi and Bokuto shamelessly flirt under their breaths, he walks further into the room.

Suddenly, something runs smack into his legs and latches on, causing him to squeak in surprise.

“Oinkawa-san!!”

Glancing down, Oikawa’s met with a grinning face and big, green eyes. “Rina-chan?”

This is a surprise. In fact, he’s so stunned, he doesn’t protest when the girl takes him by the hand and literally drags him to the play area.

“I’m building a castle!” she says as they walk; as she yanks him around like a doll. “Come help!”

That’s how Oikawa ends up sitting on a tacky rug in a kindergarten classroom, trying to build a castle of blocks with his crush’s daughter.

* * *

Perfection doesn’t exist.

Iwaizumi knows this. He’s always known this. Which is why he should’ve known something was off this morning. Things were going too well. Before Akaashi called him, he realized his mistake.

He forgot to pack Erina’s lunch.

It’s the easiest thing to do, and yet it slipped his mind. Although Akaashi was very understanding about it, Iwaizumi still feels like a terrible father. But of course, he’s always his toughest critic. Iwaizumi left the studio as soon as he could and picked up some food. Now he’s weaving through traffic, letting his annoyed curses fly freely since he’s alone in the car.

With the lull in projects, work isn’t as busy as it normally is. However, there’s been talk of a well-known director who may be interested in collaborating with Iwaizumi for an animated film. As exciting as that is, he’s more concerned with this new transition for Erina. He can’t afford any distractions right now. He's afraid if he splits up too much of his attention, he'll unintentionally neglect Erina. 

If Kyoutani were around he’d tell Iwaizumi he’s being overdramatic and overprotective. But he’s a first-time parent. He can be dramatic and overprotective.

Iwaizumi parallel parks in front of the school. Since it’s way pass check-in hours, he has to show his identification card at the front desk before he’s granted entry. The security detail is another reason he chose this school. He’s read way too many articles about sick people targeting schools to not consider something like security. Even though most of those tragedies occur in western countries, it never hurts to be on the safe side.

The door to Akaashi’s classroom, like many of the other classrooms, is open. He taps on the door softly just in case.

“Iwaizumi-san,” Akaashi greets, standing up from his desk. There’s an alpha with strange hair sitting behind the desk as well. “You didn’t waste any time.”

“I couldn’t let my daughter go hungry,” he chuckles.

“Nonsense. If you were tied up, I would’ve made sure she had lunch. I’m her teacher, you know." He takes the food. "I’ll put this away.”

Iwaizumi nods at the alpha who nods at him in return. But the alpha doesn’t look away after that. He keeps staring at Iwaizumi. Do they know each other? 

“Sorry, where are my manners,” the alpha says, standing with his hand extended, “Bokuto Koutarou. I’m Akaashi’s husband.”

“Iwaizumi Hajime.” He gives the man’s hand a firm shake. “You’re on the national volleyball team, right?”

“Yeah!”

“I didn’t know your husband was famous, Akaashi-san.” Iwaizumi misses whatever it is Akaashi says in response because he glances around the classroom and sees Erina. And someone else. “Is that…”

No, that can’t be him.

Iwaizumi turns away from the couple, walking further into the classroom, nearing the play area. He keeps his distance as not to disturb the omegas or the other children who are playing off to the side.

“Good job, Rina-chan,” Oikawa says, raising his hand for a high-five. When Erina slaps his hand, he smiles at the girl. _Genuinely_ smiles at her. “Now we have to build a moat for the castle!”

“What’s a mope?”

“Moat,” he corrects patiently. “A moat is very important for defending the castle from enemies.”

For a brief, infinitesimal moment, Iwaizumi entertains the thought of Erina having a mother figure around. Even from where he’s standing, he can tell his daughter is comforted by the presence of another omega; this omega in particular. And Oikawa doesn’t seem to dislike his current predicament. He’s not as tense as he was Saturday at the pizza parlor. His smiles aren't forced. 

The thought is fleeting, however. Iwaizumi dismisses it, not allowing it to linger. 

“Oooh,” Erina says, mouth forming a small ‘o’. She looks up suddenly, her eyes widening at the sight of her father. “Papa!” She jumps up.

Iwaizumi’s still in a trance, but his arms instinctively lower to pick the girl up. As he hugs Erina, he looks at Oikawa over her shoulder. “Hey, baby girl,” he says, kissing her temple, taking his eyes off the athlete. “I came to drop your lunch off. Sorry, I forgot to pack it.”

“It’s okay, Papa. Oinkawa-san was showing me how to build a mope!”

“Moat, Rina-chan,” Oikawa says. He’s standing now, carefully avoiding Iwaizumi’s gaze. “I had fun building a castle with you. Sadly, I have to go now.”

Erina frowns. “Will you visit again?” she asks, hopeful.

Once again, the child manages to stupify Oikawa and Iwaizumi. The question has put Oikawa in an awkward position because he isn’t sure how to answer that. He also knows it’s weird to visit a guy’s daughter at school when he has no relationship with that guy. On the other hand, Iwaizumi wants to cut in and spare Oikawa from lying to a child, but he’s also floored.

“Okay, children,” Akaashi says, “it’s time for the cleanup song!”

The other children hustle to their feet as Akaashi walks around the room with them, singing and picking up toys. Erina is still staring at Oikawa expectantly.

“We’ll see if Oikawa-san can join us for lunch again sometime,” Iwaizumi says as a last-ditch effort. “Okay, baby girl?”

Erina nods. “Okay!” She wiggles out of her father’s hold, rushing to join in with the cleanup. “See you later, Oinkawa-san and Papa!”

Iwaizumi was sure she’d try to leave with him. Yet again his daughter has dashed his hopes. She’s really growing up.

“Nice save,” Oikawa says, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, gaze averted. “Oh, and I promise I’m not like stalking your daughter or anything. I know I keep popping up at random times...”

“I assume you’re here with your teammate then?”

“Yes, we dropped off lunch for Akaashi-san and--”

“My daughter tackled you?” he chuckles knowingly.

Oikawa looks at Iwaizumi, really looks at him, for the first time that day. He smiles. “You know your daughter very well. She insisted I help her build a castle and that’s what we were doing.” He ducks his head again.

It irritates Iwaizumi. Why is Oikawa acting this way around him? Is he intimidated by Iwaizumi? Does he not want to look at him? Iwaizumi is more upset by that last bit more than he cares to admit. This isn’t the confident Oikawa who purposefully gave him a bad toss in volleyball a few days ago.

Then it hits Iwaizumi. 

Oikawa has been lurking his Instagram, and the omega is more than likely waiting for Iwaizumi to bring it up. Seeing Erina and Oikawa together made him forget about that. But now he’s thinking about it.

“Hey, Oikawa-san,” Iwaizumi says, “can I speak with you outside?”

“Uh, okay, yeah sure.”

That doesn’t sound anxious at all, Iwaizumi thinks sarcastically. 

On their way out of the classroom, Bokuto is watching them with an unreadable expression. Iwaizumi thinks nothing of it. They exit the building and walk over to Iwaizumi’s car.

“Is this about the whole Instagram thing?” Oikawa blurts out.

“I see my assumption was correct. That’s why you’re acting like this.”

“Acting like what?”

“Shy,” Iwaizumi says, grimacing. “We both know you’re not shy.”

Oikawa crosses his arm, his shoulder’s hunched, chin tilted.  Everything about his posture and tone is defensive. “You don’t know anything about me," he says. 

“I hit a nerve. I’m sorry.” Iwaizumi can tell by the sharpness in the omega’s eyes that his comment was unwelcome. “What I mean to say was that you were acting as if you were intimidated by me and that’s different from how you normally are.”

“Please, choose your words wisely next time.”

There’s more to this, Iwaizumi is sure of it. Someone has said those exact words to Oikawa before but in a different situation. The predicaments his mind comes up with make him queasy. But he isn’t going to press for answers because that’ll be opening a door to questions aimed at him. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Iwaizumi starts over. “You found my Instagram?”

Oikawa’s shoulders unwind, his embarrassment returning. “And I liked a picture by mistake. Don’t act as if you’ve never lurked anyone!”

“I haven’t.”

“When you saw that I liked your picture did you click on my page?”

Iwaizumi’s mouth forms a dismal line. He isn’t going to answer that. But his silence speaks volumes. Oikawa smirks, mirroring a cat who has a mouse right where it wants it.

“Ah, I see. The only difference between you and I is that you were careful not to like a picture.”

“I never looked your name up on social media, either.”

“I’ll give you that.”

“Why did you look me up?”

“That’s what people do these days when they’re interested.” His eyes widen. “Interested in meeting new people. New friends!”

“Friends?” Iwaizumi repeats, unconvinced. “Is that what you want, Oikawa-san? You only want to be friends?”

Oikawa doesn’t answer immediately, and it worries Iwaizumi. His initial plan was to steer clear of the omega, but after seeing him play with Erina, and the numerous times Erina has brought him up, he realizes that isn’t going to happen. They keep bumping into one another and they're in the same social circle. 

If Oikawa is interested than more than friendship, this is where he’ll draw the line for good. He’s practically holding his breath as he waits for an answer. Perhaps he cares more than he’s letting on.

“Yeah, that’s what I want,” Oikawa says. “I understand your hesitance what with me not liking kids and all. But I hope you at least know I would never mistreat your daughter or any kids.”

“Pups can sense if you mean them harm. Erina is relaxed around you so that tells me enough. However, there are other factors to take into consideration that she isn’t capable of discerning.”

“Of course.”

“I also don’t want you to feel obligated to be around her just because she likes you.”

“Iwaizumi-san, I told you I wanted to be friends. I’m aware of your situation and you’re aware of mine yet I still made that decision. Sounds to me that you’re the uncertain one.”

Damn, Oikawa has a solid point. Iwaizumi has a habit of projecting onto others. He did it with Kyoutani at the start of their friendship. If Kyoutani wasn’t so thick-headed and tenacious, he doubts they would be friends.

Iwaizumi sighs. “I’ll be honest with you, I don’t have many friends and the friends I do have are…”

“Are?”

“Alphas and betas.”

“So, my second gender is the real issue here. Please, don’t tell me you’re sexist.”

“If I was, would I admit something like that?”

“If you have to ask you’re clearly not,” he laughs.

The sound of it eases the tension. Iwaizumi laughs as well. Oikawa’s laughter dies down as he stares at Iwaizumi.

“What?” the alpha asks, glancing down with a frown. “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” he clears his throat, “I...I’m sorry. I was distracted. But don’t worry, Iwaizumi-san. It’s not like we’re going to be besties or anything. Try not to overthink it!”

“Well, we should at least exchange numbers.”

Oikawa’s mouth opens partially, his high cheekbones reddening. “Y-you want my phone number?”

“Erina did invite you to lunch. I’d like to be able to contact you and set up a date.”

The word ‘date’ seems out of place. He isn’t sure why he even caught on to that word. It keeps circling around in his mind. 

_Date. Date. Date. Date. Date._

“A date,” Oikawa mutters. Then louder, “Oh, you mean a lunch date? You, me, and Rina-chan?”

“Yes, if that’s okay with you?”

“Sure. Can I see your phone? So I can put my number in…”

Iwaizumi’s palms are sweaty. Why are his palms sweaty?

He pats his pants pockets for his phone (and to discreetly wipe his pants off). Handing his phone over, he stuffs his hands in his pocket, unsure what to do with them.

“You’re all set,” Oikawa says.

“Okay.” Iwaizumi takes his phone and returns it and his hand to his pocket. This is incredibly awkward for some reason. “Guess I’ll be seeing you then…”

“Yeah, guess so.”

Neither of them walks away. They’re just standing there, staring at the neatly trimmed grass beneath their feet, awkward silence hanging over them. Thankfully, Bokuto walks out and lets Oikawa know he’s ready whenever he is. 

“Well, that’s my ride,” Oikawa jokes with a strained smile. “Hope to hear from you soon, Iwaizumi-san.” He leaves before Iwaizumi can get a word out.

Iwaizumi gets in his car, sitting there for a moment. Oddly enough, his mood has lifted significantly, though, he isn’t sure why that is. As he’s driving back to work, an image of Oikawa and Erina sitting on that tacky carpet surrounding by building blocks is at the forefront of his mind. 

 

TBC 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay me for getting an update out before classes started! Thanks for reading. Drop a comment if you enjoyed this chapter, please <3


	4. Cheers to the friend zone!

Yahaba isn’t sure he heard that right, confusion and disbelief are all over his face. “You, Oikawa Tooru,” he says making a grand gesture with outstretched hands, “built a castle with a child? You actually sat down on some broken crayon, minefield of a floor with a tiny human? What is the world coming to…”

“Okay, in my defense, she forced me to play with her. I didn’t offer my castle building skills!”

“Forced by a four-year-old. Wow!”

“She’s five,” Oikawa corrects, sending a scathing glare in his best friend’s direction. “And don’t give me that crap. How many times has Takeru made you play with him?”

The answer is too many times to count. Of course, Oikawa knows Yahaba isn’t going to openly admit that.

“Unlike you, I’m fond of children,” Yahaba says. He's only beginning to warm up to children. Similar to his best friend, he’s never hated them. It’s just that they’ve never appealed to him, either. “For argument’s sake, the child forced you to play with her. Did she also force you to agree to lunch or was that her father’s doing?”

Oikawa has no idea why he allows himself to end up in these situations. Every time he seeks out his best friend for advice or to simply rant about his love life; lack thereof, in this case, he's always on the receiving end of Yahaba’s subtle—not so subtle—teasing.

“I agreed to lunch because I’m not cruel. Iwaizumi-san and his daughter enjoy my company obviously.”

Yahaba hums quietly, bringing a wine glass up to his lips. “From what you’ve told me, Iwaizumi-san doesn’t seem that impressed by you.” He drinks.

If it weren’t for the fact they’ve been friends since high school and been through loads of stressful situations together, Oikawa would've been offended by Yahaba’s remark. But he knows Yahaba isn’t saying it to be harsh. He's just honest. Oftentimes too honest. 

“I can’t wrap my head around it," Oikawa says. "Not to sound vain or anything, but I thought he’d be at least a little interested.”

“Maybe he is but he’s good at hiding it.”

Oikawa remembers how Iwaizumi looked the other day when they were outside the school. Iwaizumi asked him if all he wanted was friendship. In the seconds that passed afterward, his face said it all. If Oikawa wanted more than friendship, he’d get nothing.

“Yahaba, give it to me straight,” Oikawa says, setting his wine glass on the coffee table and facing his friend. "Is Rina-chan’s mother still in the picture?”

“I don’t know.” Yahaba frowns at the disbelief on Oikawa’s face. “I’m telling the truth.” Lowering his voice, he says, “Every time I try to get any information out of Ken about Iwaizumi, he shuts down.” He has to be careful because his boyfriend is in the bedroom napping before it’s time for him to patrol later tonight. “It’s a touchy subject for some reason.”

Oikawa needs more wine. He pours himself another round then tops off Yahaba’s glass. They drink in silence. When their glasses are empty, Oikawa speaks. 

“I’m not interested in Iwaizumi-san romantically anymore so it doesn’t matter.”

“When did you decide that? Because an hour ago you were lurking his Instagram page again.”

“I can admire someone without wanting to date them.”

“Sure you can,” Yahaba says and for once it’s hard to tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. “Are you going to settle for the friend route then?”

“That’s the only choice I have.”

“You could end all contact with him easily, Oikawa. You’ve only just met the guy. There aren’t any emotional attachments to him or his daughter.”

“Iwaizumi-san is expecting me to meet up with them tomorrow for lunch. But after tomorrow, I’ll keep my distance.”

Obviously, Yahaba isn’t convinced, but he keeps his opinion to himself.

Thankfully, the subject is changed. But while Yahaba complains about all the reading he has to do for class, Oikawa thinks about the mysterious Iwaizumi Hajime and his bossy daughter.

* * *

Oikawa is drained.

He always feels this way after a therapy session. Having to peel back all those layers and open himself up is exhausting. But at least he was able to get some things off his chest.

Sitting in his parked car, he types out a brief message for Bokuto to let him know how the session went and to assure him that he isn’t relapsing. He isn't sure what his deal is, either. But he's certain it's nothing serious. Tapping out of their message thread, he sees an unread text from Iwaizumi. The alpha is confirming the time they’re supposed to meet up for lunch.

Good thing they won’t be going to another pizza place. Oikawa can do without having to witness Erina get cheese and marinara sauce all over her face and clothes again. Children are so gross sometimes.

Oikawa replies to Iwaizumi’s text then he connects his phone to his car’s Bluetooth. Music is beneficial to his decompression process. He listens to classical music—Rêverie L.68 extended to be precise— as he drives to the restaurant.

It’s a good forty-minute drive. Enough time for him to go over his game plan for this afternoon.

For whatever reason, Iwaizumi’s daughter is fond of him. He’s beginning to think the child has poor taste in more than just clothing. Because what child in their right mind would be fond of him? He doesn't exude tranquility. He sure as hell doesn't give off motherly vibes. That's Akaashi's whole deal. Even Yahaba has the capacity to be a mother. Nothing about Oikawa screams "caregiver." And that's how he prefers it. 

Erina’s terrible choices aside, her father is a puzzle Oikawa would love to solve. An attractive puzzle with very nice arms and pretty teeth at that. But Oikawa won’t let those things trap him in this bizarre situation. Oh no. He will put this, whatever this is, to an end today.

“Lunch and that’s it,” he says to himself, thinking if he verbalizes the words that’ll speak it into existence, literally. “I won’t be sucked into any more castle building or plans of future lunches. Today is the last day.”

Then he can return to his normal life of volleyball, photo shoots, and filming promotional videos. Perhaps he’ll blow the metaphorical dust off one of his dating apps. The major downside with that is a lot of the men and women on dating apps aren’t seeking real connections as their profiles claim. They’re mainly interested in a booty call or a fuckbuddy or any other space filler in their lives. Oikawa likes to think he would be fine with any of those roles but he won’t lie to himself like that.

Romance novels and movies are to blame for his juvenile fantasy of meeting his “soulmate” and spending the rest of his life with them. It’s pathetic, he knows. Reality isn’t a fairytale. But if life were a fairytale, Oikawa has a feeling his prince wouldn’t be prince charming or a typical hero. No, he sees himself falling for a dark prince. Someone more on the antihero side. 

Oikawa entertains the thought until he arrives at the restaurant. He sees Iwaizumi and Erina sitting outside under pastel-colored umbrellas. Bypassing the hostess’s podium, he sees himself to the patio.

“I hope I didn’t keep you two waiting for too long,” he says pleasantly.

“Oinkawa-san!” Erina shouts, waving with both hands. “You made it!” 

Smiling, Oikawa takes the seat across from Erina. He nods at Iwaizumi who returns the gesture. Then he looks at Erina. “Hello, Rina-chan.” His eyes lower to the girl’s outfit. “I see you’re dressed as…”

“I’m a lizard!” The bright, green polyester jumpsuit has a lizard’s face painted on the hood, complete with yellow eyes, a long, red tongue, and sharp teeth.

“Oh, are you taking her to a themed birthday party later?” Oikawa asks Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi chuckles. “No, she wanted to wear that today. It’s a Saturday so.” He shrugs as though the explanation is viable.

Well, at least the alpha isn’t a controlling parent, Oikawa supposes.

Similar to their first lunch “date”, Erina bombards Oikawa with question after question. She’s fascinated by every answer he gives her no matter how small or mundane. Her incessant inquiries, her high-pitch voice, and the constant mispronunciation of his name are all very, very, irritating. Maybe forty minutes isn't enough time to decompress. 

Oikawa wants her to shut up or at least take a breather in between each question. Of course, she doesn’t do either of those things for some time. It's disappointing that Iwaizumi isn't one of those parents who stop their kids from talking people's ears off. The most Iwaizumi does is intervene when her questions veer on the personal side but that rarely happens. 

“Papa makes movies!” Erina says. “What do you do for grown-up people work, Oinkawa-san?”

“I play volleyball.” He does more than that but he decides to keep his answer short.

“Bolleyball?”

Iwaizumi corrects, “Volleyball. Remember, Uncle Kyou and I play that game whenever we go to the beach. It’s the game with the net.”

“Oh!” Erina nods. She already has another question on her tongue, her face says it all.

Fortunately for him, the server shows up to take their orders. Thanks to the interrogation, he has no idea what he wants to eat. Iwaizumi suggests the lunch special so he goes with that. Oikawa notices how quiet Erina is as her father talks to the waitress.

Now that he thinks about it, the other day in Akaashi’s classroom, Erina wasn’t as talkative. She was far from silent either, but she was nothing like she was moments ago. He thinks nothing of it. Children are simply erratic creatures.

It’s one of the reasons he dislikes them, honestly. They mess with his anxiety; their unpredictable nature. Oikawa is talented when it comes to reading people and that talent isn’t only used in volleyball. But he can never get a clear read on children, he can never anticipate their moves.

“So, you make movies, Iwaizumi-san?” Oikawa asks once the servant leaves. “Anything I might be familiar with?”

“For starters, I don’t make movies. But I’m sure you already know that. My profession is in the bio on my Instagram page.” He smirks.

Oikawa wishes he sat in front of Iwaizumi instead of Erina. That way he could kick the alpha’s shin under the table.

“I thought we agreed to never bring that up.”

Iwaizumi’s eyebrow raises. “We made no agreement.”

“It was an unspoken agreement. Bringing up something like that is in poor taste. There is a code to follow, you know!”

“A lurker’s code?”

“Yeah!”

“Sounds fake but okay.”

“Well, it’s not fake. You should brush up on your social media etiquette.”

“I’m sure stalking someone’s page has nothing to do with etiquette. Where do you get this stuff from anyway? Urban dictionary?”

As they continue their banter, Erina watches them, her green eyes flicking between the two like a tennis ball being hit over the net, back and forth. She smiles.

One way or another, the conversation returns to its previous topic. Iwaizumi explains what he does for a living in more detail. In a way, he does make movies. He creates the sound effects that breathe life into the films he’s commissioned to work on. Sometimes, he provides visuals for certain projects and has a handful of directing credits under his belt.

Oikawa is impressed. He’s never met a foley artist before or anyone in the film industry. He can tell Iwaizumi is passionate about his work from how the alpha talks about it. There’s something attractive about that.

“What’s your favorite movie?” Iwaizumi asks. Their food has arrived. Erina has already dug into her pancake (that her father cut into eight pieces for her) but the adults are too wrapped up in their conversation to eat yet.

“That’s tough. I have a lot of favorites. I’ll go with Gattaca for now.”

“The western film? Good choice.”

“I’m happy you approve,” Oikawa says and he’s partially serious.

Iwaizumi snorts at the sarcasm. “No offense but I figured you’d be into romcoms or something.”

“What’s wrong with romcoms?”

“Some of them are okay but most times the plots lack substance and they’re predictable.”

The predictability is what Oikawa enjoys about romcoms. When he’s in a crappy mood he likes to put one on and unwind. He glances at his plate, at the untouched salmon and remembers he’s actually hungry. Talking to Iwaizumi is the same as talking to Erina it would seem. Both of them have a way of distracting him.

Picking up his chopsticks, he eats before his food gets cold. Iwaizumi does the same.

“Oopsie,” Erina says. There’s a piece of syrup covered pancake stuck to her jumpsuit. She picks it up, stares at it, and then pops it in her mouth.

Oikawa has to stop himself from pulling a face. He can’t judge her this time because there's been a lot of times when he’s dropped popcorn or a chip on his shirt and ate it anyway. And the way she says ‘oopsie’ is too cute. He’s even forgotten about how annoying she was moments ago.

“What’s your favorite movie, Iwaizumi-san?” Oikawa pauses, sparing a glance at the child. “You too, Rina-chan. I want to know your favorite movie.”

Iwaizumi allows his daughter to answer first.

“Totoro!” Erina says.

“I like that movie, too.” Though it’s been a while since Oikawa’ watched it. “Is that your favorite as well, Iwaizumi-san?” He smiles. 

“It’s on the list,” Iwaizumi admits. “But the original Godzilla is my ultimate favorite. As for American films, the recent Blade Runner is a masterpiece.”

“Oh, Blade Runner 2049? That’s actually on my watchlist.”

That’s a good opening, though, it’s unintentional. All Iwaizumi has to do is make the suggestion that they watch the movie together and as much as Oikawa claims to no longer be interested in any kind of relationship with the alpha, he knows he’ll jump at the chance to watch a movie with him.

“You should find the time to watch it,” Iwaizumi says, shattering Oikawa’s dream. “I’m sure you’ll like it.”

Oikawa nods. “Will do.” He doesn’t try to mask his disappointment.

When their plates are cleared and lunch is paid for by Iwaizumi who denies Oikawa’s offer to pay, he decides it’s time to make good on the goal he set for himself to wipe his hands clean of the alpha and his daughter.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Oikawa starts, and he catches the way Erina’s eyebrows furrow. “I enjoyed myself. But now I must be on my—”

“Papa, can Oinkawa-san see our garden?!” Erina interjects. 

“Only if Oikawa-san doesn’t have any other plans, baby girl.” Iwaizumi looks at Oikawa. To Oikawa’s surprise, Iwaizumi doesn’t try to subtly discourage him from partaking. “We have a plot at a community garden and we’re going to stop by when we leave here. If you’re free, you’re welcome to come.”

No, Oikawa doesn’t want to go to a smelly community garden and play around in dirt. He wants to get away from this dense alpha and his chatty daughter and spend the remainder of his Saturday at a Spa or maybe he’ll sit around his apartment drinking wine whilst feeling sorry for himself. 

“Sure, I’d love to see your garden,” Oikawa says and he’s pissed by how much he means those words.

. . .

The community garden isn’t smelly. Not in the way Oikawa imagined at least.

A majority of the plots are outside, strategically placed in neat rows with enough space in between, granting each plot owner their privacy. No one seems to take advantage of this, however. Everyone is socializing with their plot neighbors. There are a lot of people there.

Who knew these many people were into gardening?

Some of the people are dressed in overalls or wear smocks over their clothes. Erina wears a pastel pink apron over her lizard jumpsuit, a cute flower printed hat, and a pair of gardening gloves. Hajime offers his own apron to Oikawa who gratefully accepts. They both wear a pair of beige gloves.

The alpha’s plot is further in the back, putting them at a safe distance away from the chatty bunch. Oikawa can only imagine how irritating it would be if Erina and the chatty bunch were allowed to interact. He wonders if Iwaizumi purposefully picked a plot back here.

“Look, Papa, the tomatoes!” Erina says, pointing at the vegetables.

Iwaizumi examines the tomatoes, determining their ripeness. He actually appears to know what he’s doing. From the state of their plot, he obviously does. Every plant has its own neat section and the vegetables are separated from the fruit and there’s a small area reserved for flowers. Handwritten wooden signs keep it all labeled and organized.

“Can we pick them now?” Erina asks.

“Yes, they’re ready.” Iwaizumi hands Erina the wicker basket to hold. He looks at Oikawa. “Do you mind watering the fruit and flowers?”

“Not at all.”

Picking up the watering can, Oikawa goes to the other side of the plot to water the blueberries first. He used to keep a few plants in his apartment but he’s not home enough to take care of them so he gave the plants to Akaashi.

Perhaps it’s the breezy weather or the innate peacefulness of a garden or maybe it’s the gentle cadence of Iwaizumi’s voice as he teaches his daughter about the plant cycle, that makes Oikawa feel at ease. He quietly hums to himself as he waters the plants. 

Once the harvestable plants are picked, Iwaizumi begins pulling the sparse weeds. He’s wearing one of his lumberjack shirts that Oikawa detests. Today the red plaid isn’t so unsightly what with the way the sleeves are rolled up over the alpha’s bulky arms. With every faint pull or stretch, the muscles flex, veins surfacing.

At one point, Iwaizumi lifts a hand to wipe sweat from his forehead. The way he squints his eyes shouldn’t be attractive at all yet it is. Oikawa almost overwaters the daisies. He stops himself from murdering the plants and ogling at Iwaizumi before the alpha notices.

He returns to his task.

“You don’t have to water that,” Iwaizumi says, pointing at the empty patches of soil. “We haven’t decided what to plant yet. Erina wanted to put a flytrap there but it’s not a good fit.”

Erina pouts then just as quickly she’s grinning again. “Oinkawa-san! What’s your favorite flower?” She points to herself. “I like daisies! Papa doesn’t like flowers.”

“Sunflowers are pretty. I guess they’re my favorite.”

Iwaizumi whispers something to Erina. The little girl’s face brightens as she nods excitedly. She kneels down, disappearing out of Oikawa’s line of sight. When she pops up again, she’s holding a white seed packet. She runs over to where he is.

“Here you go, Oinkawa-san!” She hands him the seed packet. Tosses it at him really. Lifting her index finger, she puts on a “serious” face and says, “A plant is very very special and you have to care for it. It is like a um...goldfish! You have to feed it and love it and give it water. I’m not old enough to have a goldfish. Papa said I have to wait until I can take care of it by myself. But you are a grown-up, Oinkawa-san! You can have your own goldfish!”

Were they still talking about plants?

Iwaizumi chuckles. “What Erina-chan means is, it’s your plant, your responsibility. And also since you’re an adult you have no reason to be neglectful.”

“The pressure,” Oikawa mutters to himself. He turns to Erina. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to plant this? I wouldn’t want to take up any space you may want for something else. Maybe you’ll want more daisies.” He smiles. “Or a Venus flytrap.”

“Venus isn’t a good fit,” the girl says with a shrug. “You’re my friend, Oinkawa-san! I can share with you!”

Is she even human? Oikawa was never this agreeable as a child. He was selfish and territorial when it came to everything he thought he owned. He wasn’t friendly either. At least not with adults; especially not adult omegas. Iwaizumi and his daughter are weird. And he is finding it harder to dislike either of them.

“That’s very kind of you, Rina-chan. Will you help me plant the seeds?”

Erina nods eagerly.

She isn’t that helpful. Then again, Oikawa doesn’t require any assistance. But doing this with Erina is—it’s not terrible. Just like her father, she’s very quiet whenever she’s concentrating. Oikawa can tell she doesn’t want to mess up. He finds it endearing she cares so much about the stupid sunflowers he has zero interest in cultivating. And that's why he decides to witness the plant's cycle from start to finish and do his best to ensure its longevity. 

With the seeds planted and the soil watered Oikawa’s fate is pretty much sealed. He pretends Iwaizumi’s fond smile isn’t only directed at Erina, but at him too, and it makes this entire situation suck a little less.

* * *

 

That night, Oikawa shows up at Yahaba and Kyoutani’s apartment, newly purchased bottle of wine in hand. His best friend opens the door, takes one look at Oikawa’s face and the wine then he steps aside, letting him in, no questions are asked, no comments are made. Because Oikawa bought the "good shit" and that says more than enough.

They walk to the kitchen.

Yahaba opens the drawer next to the sink, takes out a corkscrew and tosses it to Oikawa who proceeds to uncork the wine.

As it bubbles and fizzles, the silence between them stretches on.

The wine glasses are taken out; the kind they only reserve for dinners and moments like now. Oikawa pours. Raising their glasses, they clink them together.

“Cheers to the friend zone,” Yahaba says blandly.

TBC 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are familiar with my multi-chaps, I know I usually do long chapters but the chapters will be shorter for this story mainly because this is my first attempt at an "actual" slow burn and keeping chapters short is how I'm pacing myself. But as always, each chapter is significant to the overall plot :)


	5. Iwa-who?

A lot of people consider Hajime’s career to be dull and trivial compared to the other aspects of film making. And he thinks that’s fair. He isn’t on the silver screen, dazzling audiences with his phenomenal acting skills. In fact, he doesn’t have any acting skills whatsoever.

In undergrad, he had to take a couple of theatre courses, and by doing so was required to participate in all the productions for that semester. After his first audition for a play, he was typecast as either a background extra or the villain’s silent henchman.

Basically, roles that required little to no dialogue. Which made it easier for Hajime to sail through the courses with high scores. So, he never complained.

Despite his natural athleticism, he isn’t a stunt double, though, he has done stunt work before for low budget short films as part as his studies. It was exciting, but it wasn’t his thing.

Hajime was never the one to stand in center stage. Even as a child he was content with playing pretend in the backyard, daydreaming about stumbling upon a fantastical world and exploring it, rather than sitting under his parents, craving their attention. He feels most alive behind the scenes, watching the story come together.

What a lot of people may deem a dull and trivial job is a dream come true for Hajime. Magical worlds don’t exist but he has the ability to breathe life into a film and make the viewer feel as though they were no longer sitting in a theater or on their couch at home but inside the movie, along for the ride with the characters.

Foley art was just something he tinkered with during university and decided he liked it. But his degree’s main focus was on film editing and directing. In this industry, it’s easy to dabble in a little of everything if you have the talent and the connections.

Luckily for him, he has both, and he gained these things on his own, without the aid of his father’s political influence.

“Papa, can I play with this?” Erina asks, pointing at the bowling ball that Hajime often uses for creating realistic sound effects.

Technically, every day is ‘bring your daughter to work day’ for Hajime. Everyone from the security guard at the front desk to the senior staff at the studio adores Erina.

Custodians give her candy whenever they see her, she’s allowed to wear costumes, and run around on the sets they’re not using. For her birthdays, Hajime always has an armful of gifts to take home for her. As if he didn’t spoil her enough.

“No, baby girl. Remember, you can’t play with anything in that corner.”

“Oh,” she whispers, her lips forming a semi-pout.

Hajime waves her over. “Here, you can paint on my phone. I only have a few more edits to make on this video. Then we can go to the park.”

“Okay!”

The only reason he doesn’t bring Erina with him to work all the time is that it’s healthy for her to spend time in a safe learning environment around children her own age. Since she no longer attends daycare and there’s no school on the weekend, she tags along with him. But this only gives his parents one more reason why Erina should've stayed with them.

In their eyes, he’s barely making it as a single parent and he needs to allow Erina to live with them again until he finds a good mate; a mate they approve of.

Hajime glances down to where Erina is quietly sitting on the floor, eyes glued to his phone. They’ve been okay on their own for a while now. He’s sure they can keep it up.

He returns to his work.

At one point, he has to put on his headphones to get the full experience of the video. The project he’s currently working on is a short, animated film for an indie director who hopes to have the completed work screened at the next film festival. A film debut can make or break a person’s career so he wants everything to be perfect.

One of his biggest flaws is how easy it is for him to lose himself in his work. In his aim for perfection, he takes more time on the edits than intended.

Basically, Erina grows bored.

* * *

“Beautiful, Oikawa-san! Working with you is always a delight!” the photographer says, blowing air kisses in Tooru’s direction. Then he continues frantically snapping pictures and shouting clipped commands, “Don’t smile at all. Give me happy. I want to see it in your eyes!”

Tooru thinks that’s the dumbest thing ever. Telling him not to smile at all and show his happiness through his eyes is going to make him look like a serial killer. Nonetheless, he does as he’s told. Always does as he’s told.

Expertly, he strikes pose after pose.

The photographer lowers the camera, feigning contemplation. “You’re doing lovely! Absolutely perfect! Something’s missing, though.” He taps his chin approximately four times; he does this a lot. Then exclaims, “I know exactly what we’re missing. Yes, I can see it now…”

“Would you be so kind as to enlighten me?” Tooru asks cutely. Inwardly, he’s thinking about smashing the camera on the floor and walking out of here. 

They’ve been at this for hours, and he hates to come off like he’s whining but magazine shoots are exhausting. They’re demanding both physically and mentally, especially when the photographer is a passive-aggressive cunt. Bad enough he hasn’t been able to make it to therapy today because of this.

“We need to see a little bit of skin,” the photographer says the last thing Tooru wants to hear. “Hike your shirt up a little so we can see the pants better. You _are_ advertising them.”

“I can tuck my shirt in if that’s the case.”

“Oh no, honey! You can’t tuck in a shirt like that!”

“Maybe another shirt then?”

The man audibly gasps as though Tooru insulted him. “Our stylist put you in the best outfit imaginable,” he says, and Tooru almost laughs. It’s a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt for fuck’s sake. “Everything else is perfection. The only itsy bitsy problem is there’s no sex appeal.”

“I thought you wanted more exposure for the pants.”

“That too, of course.” He looks at Tooru as if Tooru is the one who lacks understanding like he’s nothing but a pretty idiot. And so are the other people standing around the man. All of them watching the monkey dance.

Tooru’s agent isn’t there even though he said he would be. But the man isn’t known for his reliability. No one is here to back him.

It’s happening again. He’s being crushed by the pressure to conform. If he storms out of here he’ll be labeled as a diva; another sensitive omega who thinks he’s too good to show a little skin. Then his old photo shoots will be dug up to prove how okay he was with showing skin in the past. “What’s the big deal now?” They’ll ask.

“Let’s take a 15, everyone!” the photographer announces.

In the dressing room, Tooru sits at the vanity with his forehead resting on the cool, glass table as he steadies his breathing. Sometimes he doesn’t think he deserves to be upset about any of this. He used to love being in the limelight.

Even now, he can’t say he fully hates the recognition he gets. He only wishes people paid more attention to his volleyball career, his value as a player, and the blood, sweat, and tears he put into every game.

But after every match, the interviewer asks him about some ad he did or if the dating rumors are true while Kuroo, who also models, gets treated like an athlete. He doesn’t hold a grudge against Kuroo. He knows it’s because he’s an omega.

His phone vibrates on the table. Expecting it to be his agent calling with some lame excuse, he almost doesn’t bother looking at the phone. He’s happy and also terrified that he does look at it.

Iwaizumi is calling. Actually, it’s a video call which is ten times more anxiety-inducing than a phone call.

Quickly, Tooru checks himself in the mirror, teasing his hair a little. His eyes are watery but he can blame it on the LED lights if Iwaizumi mentions it. He answers.

Wide green eyes and one nostril comes into view, an excited, “Oinkawa-san!” serves to confirm what Tooru already concluded. It’s Erina, not Iwaizumi. He’s a little disappointed by this but smiles at the girl when she leans back, bringing her full face into view.

He can make out a few things in her background. Looks as though she’s in a theatre?

“Hello, Rina-chan.”

Erina’s eyes double in size, her mouth forming a tiny ‘o’ as she stares at the screen. “Oinkawa-san is sooo prettyyyyyy!” she says.

“Ah, thank you...you’re very pretty, too.” Tooru chuckles at the girl’s frozen expression. “May I ask where you are right now?”

“At Papa’s job!”

That would explain the stage props in the back. “And where is your Papa?”

“He’s working on a bideo. I wanna go to the park and play on the slides and the swings and the monkies but Papa has to do his work first.” She frowns. “Can you come play with me?”

Erina thinks Tooru is actually her friend like they’re in the same age group, and it’s perfectly normal for them to plan play dates. It’s kinda cute, but also weird. She does realize he’s a grown-up, doesn’t she? It makes him wonder if she has any friends her age. He remembers growing up without many friends. But he had two parents who doted on him. Erina only has her father.

“Sorry, Rina-chan, I’m at work right now, too.” Tooru has to physically stop himself from promising to see the girl some other time to make it up to her. 

Erina’s frown deepens.

“Erina?” Iwaizumi voice calls from close by. “Who are you talking to?”

Suddenly, the phone is being lifted, distorted movement can be heard on the other end. When Iwaizumi’s face comes into view, Tooru smiles sheepishly.

“It’s me, your favorite stalker again,” he jokes.

Iwaizumi snorts, seemingly unsurprised. “Let me guess, she called you.”

“Bingo!” He can hear Erina in the background trying to explain herself. “How did she find my number anyway?”

“She calls all my contacts until who she wants to talk to picks up. That’s why I only allow her to play with my personal phone. There are maybe five or six people on here.”

“Very wise of you, Iwaizumi-san. Children these days are very technologically advanced.” Tooru makes a side note for himself: he’s one of the five or six contacts in Iwaizumi’s personal phone. That has to count for something, right?

“Are you wearing makeup?” Iwaizumi asks. His expression is similar to how Erina’s was earlier without all the vibrancy.

With Erina, the look was pure. The way children look at Disney princesses. However, Iwaizumi’s look is one Tooru is familiar with. It’s attraction in its simplest form.

“No makeup,” he says, feeling smug. “I have the LED lights to thank for the flawlessness." And genetics but he'll keep that to himself. "I’m in my dressing room. Photoshoot,” he explains.

“How’s that going?”

“It’s going.” Tooru realizes he almost forgot about the incident with the photographer. Talking to Erina threw him for a loop and now Iwaizumi was giving him that look that made him feel like he was hot shit. He didn’t want to go back out there and play defanged lion in the photographer’s ringmaster performance.

Iwaizumi nods. “Well, I won’t hold you up. Sorry if we disturbed you.”

“Oh no, it’s no problem. I was on break anyway.”

“Is everything okay, Oikawa-san? You seem upset.”

He lies because if he talks about it he might cry then his eyes will get all red and puffy and that’ll be another reason for the photographer to be an ass toward him. So, he tells Iwaizumi he’s fine but tired. Which isn’t a total lie.

“Be sure you take some time for yourself,” Iwaizumi says. “Talk to you later.” He ends the call. But not before Erina can be heard screaming, “Bye, Oinkawa-san!”

Tooru continues staring at his phone, a slight smile on his face, long after the screen goes black. A sharp knock at the dressing room’s door startles him. It’s the assistant letting him know the break is over. He takes a deep breath, shakes his hands to get the nerves out or get the blood flowing. He isn't really sure why he shakes his hands or if it actually helps. He does it anyway. 

Then he heads back to where the shoot is being held, takes his position in front of the white backdrop, and gives everyone what they want. He shows a little skin. They’re just photos, he tells himself.

Whenever his manager gets there, they can go over his contract with the magazine again and have all the pictures he doesn't like scrapped.

* * *

Once again, the most dreaded time of the year, in Hajime’s personal opinion, is here.

One of the studio’s benefactors is hosting their biannual circle jerk where the rich and famous gather to get chummy, brag about how much money they’ve made so far this year and pretend to care about humanities.

Hajime hates this part of his job, but they have to stay in good standing with the people throwing money at them. That’s how they get to continue doing what they love. So, he puts on a tuxedo, gets a haircut, shaves his five o’clock shadow, and takes one for the team.

Conveniently, Erina is still with his mother. He had his rut on Tuesday and was out of commission until Thursday night. To prevent Erina from missing school, his mother caught a flight from Hokkaido. Her and Erina have been staying in a hotel for most of the week. As inconvenient as that may sound, his mother loves any reason to get out of the house.

Being a wealthy housewife has its downsides apparently. She enjoys spending time with Erina and vice versa. It’s a win-win.

These parties are almost always held at the man’s home where the parking is terrible. Hajime hails a cab there. During the drive, he goes through all the pictures his mother sent of Erina. She’s smiling ear to ear in every picture.

Probably because his mother is spoiling her rotten. She’s already bought Erina a ton of clothes under the guise of “restocking her wardrobe for kindergarten” or something like that. It’s been a little over a month since Erina started kindergarten.

When he told his mother that she ignored him. But Hajime will get the last laugh in the end because Erina rarely likes any of the clothes his mother buys for her. His parents think Erina should dress more like a “lady”, not a “confused omega” as his father put it once.

God, Hajime loves his parents, he really does, but they’re so close minded. Always have been. They were furious when he told them he wanted to go to a performing arts university. Whenever he thinks about their reaction to his career decision in comparison to their reaction to the circumstances of Erina’s conception, he gets pissed.

So, he quickly ends the train of thought.

The timing is perfect because the cab is rolling to a stop at the edge of the long, uphill driveway. Hajime pays his fare and gets out, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He can see a good number of people through the mansion’s large, glass windows. With any luck, he’ll bump into the host early on so he can get the humiliating yet necessary ass kissing out of the way. Of course, it won’t be that easy for him.

At the door, a tall burly alpha checks the guest list for Hajime’s name. Finding it, he steps aside, granting him entry into a minimalist’s dream house. Stark white walls, sparse furniture, scattered décor that looks like junkyard scraps but probably costs more than his entire life's worth.

There are maybe thirty to forty people in attendance yet the mansion is so big it seems less than that. Hajime moves through the first floor with a single purpose. He needs to show his face to the person that matters.

A handful of times, Hajime catches someone staring at him. Different people every time. Some faces he recognizes from the industry and the people he doesn't recognize are more than likely familiar with him or curious to know why he's there.

Two people intercept him during his search for the host. One man claims to be a fan of his work but doesn't bother to mention anything he's worked on. Instead, he goes right for the kill and propositions Hajime. He's been at the party for what? Six minutes and someone is already trying to take him home.

It's just the post rut appeal.

Alphas are deemed five times more attractive the days before and after a rut. The same with omegas around their heats. On top of that, Hajime is wearing a tuxedo. He's been told they suit him well. In summary: he's hot as fuck tonight.

Hajime politely declines the proposition.

The second person who intercepts him is an actual fan of his work. They spend a great deal talking about his past projects in detail. Never one to focus on himself too much, he asks the woman about her career. She's an actress.

"Forgive me, but I don't think I'm familiar with any of your work," Hajime says. A passing server offers him champagne. He doesn't partake unlike everyone else at the party.

The woman isn't offended thankfully. She smiles and says, "I take it you're not familiar with The Heat Chronicles. I starred in two of the films."

It's exactly what it sounds like. A series of adult films chronicling an omega's heat.

"Ah, I see." Hajime isn't sure what else to say to that. He's met his fair share of pornstars in his line of work. They're no different than other artists in his opinion; passionate and starving. "I hear the editing in those films is top notch."

She laughs, surprised by his nonchalant response. "We haven't won film of the year, for three straight years, for nothing!"

They talk some more about random things then he excuses himself to continue his search. As he's walking away from the woman, toward the winding staircase, something tugs on his instincts. He glances up at the second-floor balcony and sees Oikawa watching him.

When their eyes meet, Oikawa nods his head, raising his champagne glass slightly in acknowledgment.

It never once crossed his mind that Oikawa might be here. This doesn't seem like Oikawa's kind of crowd, but then again, he's here strictly on business. Perhaps Oikawa is too. Reaching the second floor, he sweeps his eyes across the visible area.

The host isn't anywhere in sight.

Hajime walks over to where Oikawa is. Now that he's closer, he can see Kuroo Tetsurou is present as well. Both athletes are dressed in fitted tuxedos, flutes of champagne in hand, and identical masks of mild boredom on their faces.

"Iwaizumi-san," Oikawa says, "fancy meeting you here. Long time no see."

"I can say the same about you. For both things."

They haven't seen one another in two weeks. Hajime only recently finished editing the short indie film then his rut hit. So, he's been a little out of touch. Not that it's a big deal or anything. Friends don't have to see each other every single day. Wouldn't that be a nightmare?

During junior high and high school its hard to avoid but university on up is different. Everyone needs their space. He's sure Oikawa's been busy too.

"How have you been?" Hajime asks, genuinely concerned.

"Peachy," Oikawa says, tone clipped. "I see you're thinking of venturing into the porn industry. At least, I hope that's what you're doing talking to Candi Whatsherface. I doubt she'd make a decent stepmom to Rina-chan."

Hajime chuckles dryly, "I see you're being an asshole for the evening. Goodnight, Oikawa-san."

"Wait, Iwaizumi-san, I'm sorry! That was uncalled for."

"If you know that then why?" He glances at the glass in Oikawa's hand. "Is that why?"

Oikawa shakes his head. "It's not—"

Suddenly, Kuroo pokes his head over Oikawa's shoulder. This whole time he's been chatting it up with a group of people next to them. "Did I hear the name Iwaizumi-san?" he asks, grinning widely when he sees Hajime. "Nice to finally meet you, Hunk-san."

Oikawa splutters.

"Hunk-san?" Hajime flatly asks.

"My apologies," Kuroo says and it's hard to tell if he actually means it or not. He has the allure and physique of a jungle cat and the same spellbinding charm. "It's a nickname I came up with. Well, one of the nicknames, but I fear the other one isn't appropriate."

"He caught me lurking you that one time," Oikawa explains.

Hajime sighs, "You have more than one witness to your crime? Wow, amateur."

Laughing, Kuroo pats Oikawa on the back. "You'll have to forgive him. He isn't up on the rules of lurking."

"Apparently not."

Oikawa glances at them. "Oh no, I don't like this. You two can't be friends." He stands in between the alphas, his back to Hajime. Discreetly, he mouths something to Kuroo that Hajime completely misses.

"My bad, my bad." Kuroo waves his hands in a placating gesture. "It was nice meeting you, Iwaizumi-san. Unfortunately, I have to mingle with a few people. It's good for endorsements."

"Nice meeting you too." Hajime pretends to have a sudden realization. "I never got your name?"

Kuroo smirks. "How silly of me. Kuroo Tetsurou." He bows before leaving. 

"Good one, Iwaizumi-san," Tooru says. "That just ticked him off though he acts otherwise."

"It's pretty obvious that he wanted to claw my eyes out."

"How very gory of you."

"Do you get like that when people pretend to not know who you are?"

"Not all the time but when you did it, I'll admit I was peeved."

"Ah, you've finally caught on."

Oikawa narrows his eyes at him. "Yes, I'm on to you, Iwaizumi-san." He smiles. "You have a sense of humor. I didn't expect that when I first saw you." He drinks the rest of his champagne just in time to place the empty glass on a passing servant's tray and pick up another one. There's something mesmerizing about the fluidity of the action.

"Books and covers and all that," he replies. "Have you seen Adachi-san at all tonight?"

"Our elusive host hasn't graced us with his presence yet. Take it from me, you might as well grab a glass and sit tight. He likes to make an entrance."

"This isn't my first time at the rodeo, Oikawa-san."

"Well, good. That means I don't have to hold your hand the whole time." Oikawa straightens. Lowering his voice, he says, "Heads up. The guy who's on his way over here is one of my endorsers."

Hajime is a passive participant in the ensuing conversation. Aside from formal introductions, he keeps to himself and observes.

This person—this omega who's standing here, charming the money out this guy's bank account with nothing more than a forced, shrill laugh and an excessive batting of his eyelashes isn't Oikawa Tooru. This person is wearing Oikawa's clothes, his gold watch, his skin, but Hajime has never met them.

Then again, what does he really know about Oikawa? What does Oikawa know about him?

For all he knows, this is the real Oikawa Tooru. It's just that his gut is telling him that the Oikawa whose sunflowers he's been watering consistently despite how hectic work has been, the same Oikawa who his daughter won't stop asking about, is the real deal.

Oddly enough realizing that makes Hajime feel superior to every person who approaches Oikawa throughout the night. He has no idea why that even matters to him.

"Sounds like you have fans in very high places too," Hajime says as a foreign ambassador walks off after praising Oikawa's volleyball skills.

They've talked with five people and there's still no sign of the host. At least Oikawa is good company. Normally, he can't stand being around fake people. However, this situation is different. Oikawa is working, same as him. 

Only difference is, Oikawa has to work twice as hard what with him being an omega. He has to always smile and play nice and pretend to give a fuck about what these people are talking about.

Scoffing, Oikawa brings his fourth glass of champagne up to his curled lips. Hajime thinks he's only had four glasses. It could be more than that. "He just wants to fuck me." He drinks. "They all just want to fuck me."

Hajime hates to admit it but Oikawa is probably right.

Even though he works behind the scenes, he knows how this industry operates. They're not in the same career field by a long shot. But the subcultures they belong to are all thriving and failing under the same umbrella of greed and corruption. He's never considered how much is riding on Oikawa's shoulder until tonight.

"Hey, Oikawa-san, I need some fresh air. Will you step out with me?"

"Sure!" Oikawa finishes off his drink and almost drops the empty glass.

Calmly, Hajime takes the glass from Oikawa. "I'll take care of this for you." He places his hand on the small of Oikawa's back to keep him from swaying as they walk to the patio. The champagne glass is set on a skinny table they walk by.

A few people are out on the patio. They walk to a semi-secluded corner and sit down on one of the couches. It's easier to breathe out here.

"If you're here who has Rina-chan?" Oikawa asks.

"My mother has her."

"Has she forgotten about me?"

Hajime looks at Oikawa. But Oikawa is staring straight ahead at nothing.

"What makes you think that?"

"Children forget about things that aren't in front of them. Or I think that's how it goes."

It's something a person who doesn't know a damn thing about kids would say. Hajime smiles.

"Erina-chan asks about you every day. I'm running out of excuses so you'll have to think of something quick."

Oikawa drops his head. "I can't be around her like this. She thinks too highly of me. You should really teach your daughter how to choose better."

"She chose right," he says.

Slowly, Oikawa lifts his head, staring at Hajime with watery eyes.

Hajime continues, "And obviously you can't be around her while you're drunk."

"That's not what I meant. I...remember when you asked me how I've been? I haven't been okay," he admits, voice cracking. After that, it's like a dam is broken, everything coming out at full speed. "My agent is a piece of shit and the contract I signed years ago has so many loopholes in it which pretty much means I'm screwed until it ends in 7 months. But it’s my fault for being so stupid back then. I had a photo shoot two weeks ago and…” He’s sobbing now.

He can’t tear his eyes away.

Oikawa continues, “They wanted me to show my stomach even though I keep telling everyone I don’t want to do shoots like that anymore. But I had to do it anyway and they’re going to publish the photos at the end of the month and I haven’t told any of my friends because I keep telling them I’m fine and I’m getting better but it’s a lie. I haven’t been to therapy in so long because my schedule is jammed and I just want to sleep and get help and see how my sunflowers are doing." 

Hajime thinks it’s over. Cautiously, he inches closer to offer comfort. But then, Oikawa starts laughing and it honestly scares him a little.

“Then I have to be here at this party,” Oikawa laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world, “around the same people who think I should be at home ironing shirts and breastfeeding pups, not on the court. When they look at me, they see...I don’t know a hole or something. They all want to fuck me.” He leans over into Hajime’s space, reeking of alcohol. “But you don’t want to fuck me. Do you?”

“I don’t,” Hajime whispers, smiling sadly. Perhaps if the question was re-worded his answer would be different. That isn’t important right now.

“Do you think I’m weak?”

“Not at all. I think you’re just tired. In general. I’ll go find Kuroo-san for you so he can take you home. I assume you two came here together?”

“Kuroo’s gone. I told him I’d be okay if he left cause I had you with me.”

“You still have me.” He pointed out. “I came here by cab. I’ll ride with you to your place. Is that okay?”

Oikawa nods.

After Hajime calls a cab, they leave the patio, walking through the mansion. Hajime has his arm securely around Oikawa’s waist, afraid if he lets go or eases up even a fraction, Oikawa will get eaten up by all the sharks in here. He's always hated these things but his disdain for it has doubled. 

Nearing the door, Hajime sees the host, Adachi. It’s just his luck that the man notices him before he can slip out the door with Oikawa.

Adachi takes one look at Oikawa then he grins at Hajime as though they’re best buds in on a juicy secret. “Thank you for coming, Iwaizumi-san. Enjoy the remainder of your evening,” he says. “We can catch up over dinner some other time.”

Hajime thanks the man for the invite and lies about looking forward to dinner. Walking with Oikawa down the steep hill is tough, especially since Oikawa is no help whatsoever, but they manage. The cab isn’t there yet so they wait at the end of the driveway. Oikawa is hugging Hajime from the side now, his head resting on the alpha’s shoulder.

“Everyone’s gonna’ think we’re dating.” Oikawa voice slurs. “Or they’ll think we’re hooking up tonight~”

“I swear to god if I see pictures of me helping your drunk ass out that asshole’s mansion uploaded on the internet tomorrow morning, I’m going to make a public statement.”

Oikawa laughs. “Saying what?”

“First, I’ll deny any romantic relationship between us. Then, I’ll tell everyone the truth.”

“And what’s that?”

“I am simply doing my duty by saving the nation’s most valuable setter from the Kraken's lair. Or maybe lion’s den sounds more realistic,” Hajime chuckles, looking down at Oikawa who’s gazing up at him, wide-eyed, mouth ajar, fluffy hair partially covering his eyes. Without thinking, he brushes Oikawa’s bangs away from his forehead.

Oikawa blinks hard like he can’t tell if this is real or not. “You think...I’m valuable...”

That isn’t quite what Iwaizumi said, but what the hell. “I do,” he answers truthfully. “You’re extremely valuable, Oikawa-san so you have to put yourself first. These people don’t care about you. They don’t care about me. They only care about money.”

“What about you?” Oikawa asks, voice small, uncertain. “Do you care about me?”

“Have you ever helped a drunk person down a steep hill? A drunk person who’s taller than you?”

“I don’t think so. Not a lot of people are taller than me.”

“It ain’t easy,” he says, watching the cab approach. “But I’d do it for you again if I had to. That says enough. Now, come on. The cab is here.”

“Iwa-chan thinks I’m valuable~”

Hajime’s face scrunches in confusion. “I’m sorry, who in the fuck?”

Oikawa giggles wildly the way only a drunk person would.

In the cab, Oikawa gives the driver his address. Why does Hajime feel like it's the omega's final act of sobriety for the night? 

After that, he makes himself comfortable on Hajime’s arm and falls asleep. Blankly, Hajime stares at the steadily rising meter. Tonight didn’t go according to plan, at all. He can’t say it was an uneventful night. It definitely wasn’t. He can’t say it was a horrible night, either.

It was just a night. A very long night that’s far from over.

When they arrive at the address, Hajime takes one look at the highrise and knows he won’t be able to simply drop Oikawa as he planned. Sighing, he wakes Oikawa up, pays the fare, wakes Oikawa up again, and helps him out the cab. He can catch a bus from here to his place. That’s if they’re still running by the time he gets done here.

“Oh, come on. You’re not even trying at this point,” Hajime says as Oikawa bears all his weight on him, his feet dragging. “Get on my back. Hey, wake up!”

“Not so loud, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa complains.

“Call me that one more time and you’re sleeping on that bench over there.”

“Mean…”

Eventually, Oikawa gets on his back. His body feels hot against Hajime’s, and while he carries him to the building, he has to consciously distract himself from that heat, and Oikawa’s scent; his heat blockers have worn off due to the alcohol, and the omega’s quiet purrs that are too close to his ear. The purrs send tiny quakes through his body. He shivers. Hajime’s still sensitive from his recent rut. So, these things impact him more than they normally would.

Doesn’t help that he hasn’t been this close to an omega, who wasn’t a relative, in years. Five years to be precise. 

“Oikawa-san, I need your door code or key to get in.”

“Pocket.”

“Fucking caveman,” he mutters, patting the omega’s pants pockets.

The security guard at the desk doesn’t take his eyes off his book long enough to determine if Oikawa is asleep or dead. This place is too pricey for the security to be crappy like the security everywhere else is.

He walks up to the elevator.

“What floor?” he asks.

“P.”

“Of course you’re in the penthouse. I expect nothing less from the nation’s most valuable setter.”

“Iwa-chan’s most valuable person, you mean.”

Hajime snorts, “Erina-chan is my most—didn’t I tell you to stop calling me that!” He tries to pry Oikawa off him. “You’re walking from here on out!”

“No!” Oikawa wiggles closer to Hajime, tightening his legs around his waist. “I’ll behave.”

His behavior is the least of Hajime’s worries now. During all that wiggling, he could feel Oikawa’s semi-erect cock on his back, and he still feels it now. It’s the alcohol combined with the post rut vibes he’s giving off that has Oikawa like this. This is why Hajime doesn’t like to drink. He doesn’t like not having control of his body.

Stepping on the elevator, he uses the key to access the penthouse. The ride up is short and accident-free. Thank god.

“We’re here,” he says. He kneels down so Oikawa can climb off. “I’m going to leave now. I’m sure you can get yourself into bed.”

Oikawa manages to get off Hajime’s back without falling or stumbling, but he isn’t alright. He tugs on Hajime’s lapels, his eyes pleading. “Stay,” he whispers.

Somehow Hajime knew this would happen.

“I can’t…I shouldn’t.”

“Sorry...” Oikawa starts twisting his fingers in his dress shirt until his fingers are red. He looks so afraid. “Thank you for getting me here.”

Hajime touches Oikawa’s hands. Gently, he untangles them from the shirt and holds them. 

Somehow he knew this would happen and yet he came here anyway.

“I’ll stay.”

  
TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No worries, the burn is still very slow :D


End file.
